Memoirs of early Italian painters

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1 iiiiiiuiiiiipii Ei^^l

lEMOIRS or THE EARLY
ITALIAN PAINTERS

MRS. JAMESON

BOSTON A»nj NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND

B6r Hlbttiitii ^nsi, (SumftnCBt

T3/1

CI

500626

• •

.* •

• • • • .

• * • • a

•> » *

CONTENTS.

aoTAmn ODCABui • ••••• •••• 7

oaoTTo •••••••••••••••26

hOKBSZO OHIBTtim • ••••••••••••••04

KABAOOIO ••• ••••••••••75

nUPPO IJFFI ABD ANOEUCO DA 1JEB01M •••••• 84

BBNOZZO GOZZOLI • •OS

AVDBEA OABTAGKO ABD LUOA nOHOBELU • • • • • 102

DOMKHIOO DAL OHUKLAHDAJO ••• 106

AVDBXA KAHTKGNA • •••••••••••• • 118

IBB BELEUrX • •••••••••••••••• 184

PIEXBO PEBUGINO ••••••••••••••• 141

WRAKCEBOO BAIB0LI5I, GALLED XL IRANOIA • • • • 149

IBA BASTOLOUEO, GALLED AUG BAOOIO DILLA FOBIA

AJTDILVBATB •• 159

UONABDO DA YlSQl ••••••••• 17G

MIOHAEL ANOELO •••••••••• 191

AllDBEA DEL 8ABT0 •••••••• • 228

MA»iTA»T. 8ANZI0 D'UBBZirO • •••••••••• 228

<«)

fl CONTENTS.

TBM SGHOLABfl 01 BAPHAWi 280

OOBBBQOIO AXD GIOBGaOHX, AXD TBEOl 80HOLAB8 . • 290
PABMiaiAHO 802

oiosGiom* 810

nnAH • •••••••••• 819

xmroBxnK) • •••••••••••••••• 889

FAUL TSBOHm • •• ••••••• 847

#i0OrO BAMAIO • ••••••••••••

MEMOIRS
IBARLY ITALIAN PAINTERS

GIOVAirai CniAEUB,

Bon U Elgrens, 1210 1 died abtrnt ISDl.

To Oimabue for three centuries had been awardsd
the lofty title of " Father of Modem Fainting ; "
and to him, oo the authority of Tasari, had been
aecribed the merit, or rather the mirack, of having
revived the art of painting when utterly lost, dead
and buried; — of having by hi« single genius brought
light out of darkneBH, form and beauty out of chaoi.
The error or grosH exaggeration of Vaeori in making
these claimB for liia oountrjniBn has been pointed
out by later authoia. Some hare even denied to
Cimabue any share whatever in the regeneration
of art : and, at all events, it seems clear that his
glaims have been mnch over-stated ; that, so fat
from painting being a lost art in the thirteenth
Mntury, and the race of artUts annihilated, as Ta-
(71

8 EABLT ITALIAN PAINTEL8.

■ari would lead us to believe, several contemporary
painters were living and working in the cities ana
ohnrehee of Italy previous to 1240; and it if
possible to trace back an uninterrupted series of
pictorial remains and names of painters even to
the fourth century. But, in depriving Cimabue
of his &lse glories, enough remains to interest
and fix attention on the period at which he lived.
EQs name has stood too long, too conspicuously,
too justly, as a landmark in the history of art, to
be now thrust back under the waves of oblivion.
A rapid glance over the progress of painting
before his time will enable us to judge of his true
daims, and place him in his true position relative
to those who preceded and those who followed
him.

The early Christians had confounded, in their
horror of heathen idolatry, all imitative art and all
artists. They r^rded with decided hostility all
images, and those who wrought them as bound to
the service of Satan and heathenism ; and we find
all visible representations of sacred personages and
actions confined to mystic emblems. Thus, the
Cross signified Redemption ; the Fish, Baptism ; the
Ship represented the Church ; the Serpent, Sin, or
the Spirit of Evil. When, In the fourth century,
the struggle between paganism and Christianity
ended in the triumph and recognition of the latter,
and art revived, it was, if not in a new form, in a
new spirit, by which the old forms were to be

dlOTAHNI CIMIBCE. V

p&diially moulded and iDodiSed. Tho Chrieti^na
found the eliell of ancient urt remaming ; the tra>
ditionnrj handiciaft still exiated ; certutn moduls
of figure and drapery, &c., bunded down trom
antiquity, though dugeneruted and distorted, !»■
nukined in use, and were applied to illuBtrate, by
direct or eyinbolical repnaentations, the tenets of
B purer fiiith. From the beginning, the figures
•elected to typify out redemption were those of the
Saviourand theBleeaed Yirgin, first separately, and
then conjointly as the Mother and Infant. The
earliest monuments of Chrietiitn art remaining are
to be found, nearly efiaced, on the walla and ceil-
b^ of the catacombs at Rome, to which the perse-
ented martyra of the faith had fled for refuge. The
Gret recorded representation of the Saviour is in the
character of the Good Shepherd, and tho attrlbutM
of Orpheus and Apollo were borrowed lo expreea
the charactci of him who "ledsemed souls trom
hall," and " gathered his people like sheep." In
the cemetery of St. Culistus, at Rome, a head of
Christ was discovered, the moat ancient of which
any copy has come down to us. The figure is co-
lossal ; the face a long oval ; the countenance mild,
grave, melancholy ; the long hair parted on the
brow, falling in two moases on either shoulder ; the
beoxd not thick, but short and divided. Hero,
then, obviously imitated from some traditiunol de-
•cription (probably the letter of Lentulus to the
Bonuui Senate, supposed to be a tiibrication of th«

10

EARLY ITALIAN PAINTERS.

third century), we have the type, the general
character, since adhered to in the representations
of the Redeemer. In the same manner traditional
heads of St. Peter and St. Panl, rudely sketched,
became, in after-times, the groundwork of the
highest dignity and beauty, still retaining that
peculiarity of form and character which time and
long custom had consecrated in the eyes of the
devout.

A controversy arose afterwards in the earlj
Christian church, which ha4 a most important in-
fiLuenoe on art, as subsequently developed. Oni
party, with St. Cyril at their head, maintained
that the form of the Saviour having been described
by the prophet as without any outward comeliness,
he ought to be represented in painting as utterly
hideous and repulsive. Happily the most eloquent
and influential among the &thers of the church,
St. Jerome, St. Augustin, St. Ambrose, and St.
Bernard, took up the other side of the question.
The pope, Adrian I., threw his infallibility into
the scale ; and from the eighth century we find it
irrevocably decided, and confirmed by a papal bull,
that the Redeemer should be represented with all
the attributes of divine beauty which art, in iti
then rude state, could lend him.

The most ancient representations of the Virgin
Mary now remaining are the old mosaics, which
ue referred to the latter half of the fifth century.*

* In the churcihef of Bane, Pte, aad Tcolet.

r

OIOTANHI CIMABUB. 11

In Uieae she is represented as a colossal figure,
majestically draped, standing, ono band on liei
breoit, and her ejes laieed to beaven ; tliea euo-
•eeded liei image in her DULteTnal character, seated
on a throne, with the infant Saiiour id her &rmB.
We most bear in mind, once for ail, that irom the
■irliwt ages of Chriatianitj the Virgin Mother hai
been selected as the all^oiical type of Reuoion,
la the abetract sense ; and to this, bee symbolical
character, must be referred those representations of
later times, in which she appears as trampling on
the Dragon; as folding her Totarica within the
skirls of bar ample robe ; as intercedbg fbi Einners ;
as crowned between heaven Eind earth by the Father
and the Son.

Seeidce the representations of Christ and the
Virgin, soma of the characters and incidents of the
Old l^ietament were selected aa pictures, generally
with raferenoe to corruponding characters and in-
cidents in the Gospel ; thus, St. Augustin, in the
latter half of the fourth century, speaks of the
sacrifice of Isaac as a common subject, typical, of
coaree, of the Great Sacrifice. The elevation of
the hraaen serpent signified the Crucifixion ; Jonah
ftnd tlie whule, the Resurrection, &,c This system
of correapondmg subjects, if type and anti-type,
Vas afterwards, as wo shall see, carried much
fiirther.

In the seventh century, painting, as it eiisted in
Bniope, nay be divided into (wo great schools ot

12 BABLT ITALIAB lAlMEltB.

I^lea : the Weatam, or Raaaii, of which the eafw
tial point was Rama, and trhich woh diBtinguiahod,

unid grea^t rudeneRS of exacutiuD, hj a certain dig-
pity of eipression and solemnity of fueling ; imd
the £aatern, or BjUDtine Bchool, of which Con-
■tantinopla was tho liead-quarlere, and which wai
diBtiitguiiibod b; greater meshnnical skill, by ad;-
harence to Iha old ciaiaical foius, by tlie use of
gilding, and by the meaji, vapid, Hpiiitleea cuncep-
tion of motive and character.

From the eorenth to the ninth century the most
important and interesting rematoa of pictorial art
ore the moBaics in the chnrcheH,* and the miniature
paintings vith which the MS. Eibloa and Goapeli
were decorated.

But during the tenth and elerenUicenturiaa Italy
fell into a state of complete barbarism and con<
fusion, which almost extinguished tlie practice of
art in any shape. Of this period only a few works
of extreme rudeness remain. In the Eastern em-
pire painting still survived. It became, indeed,
more and more conventional, insipid, and incorrect,
but the technical methods were kept up ; and thus
it happened that when, in 1204, Constantinopla
was taken by the Crusadere, and that the inter-
course between the east and west of Europe was
resumed, several Byzantine painters passed into
Italy and Germany, where they were employed to

oiOTAinn onumjH. 13

deccrate tlie cburches ; and taught the piucticfi of
tbeir art, thdir mciDDer of pencilling, mixing and
UHing cokra, and gilding ornametitB, to each as
cbofie to learn of them. They brought ovar tba
Bp^antlne typea of form and color, tbe long, lean
limbs of tbe saints, the dark-Tisaged MiuJonnaa,
the blood-streaming crucifixea ; and tbeae patterns
-were followed mora or lese seriilel; by the nittive
Italian pain tera who studied under them. Speci-
mens of this carlj art remain, and in theee later
timw have been diligentlj sought and collected into
museums as cariosities, illustrating the historj
and progress of art. As such they ate, in tbe bigb-
eet degree, interesting ; but it must be confessed
that, otherwise, tbej are not attractive. In the
Berlin Oallery, and in that of tbe fine arts at Flor-
enee, the best specimens have been brought to-
gether, and there are a few in the Louvre.* Tha
subject is generally the Madonna and Child,
throned ; sometimes alone, sometimes with angela
or saints ranged on each side. The charac[«riBticB
are, in all caaee, the same. The figures arc stiff',
tbe extremities long and meagre, the features hard
and eipressionlesB, tbe eyes long and narrow. The
head of the Virgin is generally declined to the left ;
the infant Saviour is generally clothed, and some-
times crowned. Two fingers of bis right hand an
[ Mctanded in act to bless ; the leR; hand holding a
I (lobe, a soroll, or a book. With regard to the ex-

• BoL WW, Ml, «sa.

r

b

I

14 EAKLT [TAUtN PAIKTXBa.

MDtioD, the ornAments of the throne and bonlan
of the draparisa, and &equeDtly the background,
ftra elaboivtaly gilded ; the local colore are gen»-
rallj vivid; tha'e is litUo or no rclinf: the band-
ling IB streaky ; the flBsli-tinla are blackish or greeiw
iafa. At this time, and for two hundred yean
ftftenratdB (before the inTention of oil painting),
piotuies were painted either in frasco, — an art
never whollj lost, — or on seogoned boatd, and the
colon mixed with water, thickened with white of
egg or the juice of the ;oung ihoota of the £g-traa.
Iliis lost method wna stjlod by the Itaiians a coUa
or a tempera, hy the French en delrempz, and in
English dittentper; and in this manner all movabl*
pioturee were executed previous to 1440.

It is clear that, before the birth of Cimahue, that
is, Irom 1300 to 1240, there existed schools of
[lointing in the Byzantine style, and under Greek
teachers, at Sienna and at Pim. The former city
produced Guido dn Sienoiv, whose Madonna and
Ohild, with CgnreB the bob of life, signed and datwl
1231, Is preserved in the church of San Domenico,
At Sienna. It is engraved inBoraini's "Storiadella
Pittiira," on the same page with a Madonna by
Olmabue, Co which it appears superior in drawing,
attitude, axprenion, and drapery. Pisa produced,
abont the same time, Giunta de Pisa, of whom
there remain worka with the date 1230. One of
iheee is a Crucifiiion, engraved in Ottley'a " Italian
School of Design," and, on a smaller scalo, in Ko»

OIOTANM CUfABUB.

lb

Jini's " Slona della Pittura," in which the eipraB-
■ion of grief in the hovering aogeli, whoare wring-
ing their baade and weeping, ia very earnest and
striking. But undoubtedlj Uie greatest man ol
that time, he who gave the grund impulse to mod-
em art, was the soulptor Nicola Fiaano, wboie
works date from about 1320 to 1270. Further, it
appears that eTen at Florence a native painter, a
oertu^in Macetio Barlolomeo, lived and was em-
ployed in 1236. Thus Cimabue oan fieorcely claim
to bo the " father of modem painting," even in hia
own city of Florence. We shall now proceed to
the facta on which his traditional celebrity ba» been

Oiuvanni of Florence, of the noble family of the
Cimabue, called othei'wiee Gualtieri, wae born in
1240. He woe early sent by hia parenls to Btudy
grammar in the school of the convent of Santa
Maria Novella, where (aa is also related of other
inborn painters), instead of conning bis ta«k, he
distracted hia teachers bj drawing men, horses,
buildings, on his school-booka. Before printing was
invented, this spoiling of echool-booliB must have
boen rather a costly fancy, and no doubt ahkrmad
the profeesors of Greek and Latin, Hia parents,
wieely yielding to the natural bent of his mind,
allowed him to atudy painting under some Greek
arlists who had eome to Floreoco to decorate the
ohurch of the convent in which he was a Bcbolar.
\t seems doubtful wlietlier Cimabue Jiif study uadet

16

URLT ITALIAN FAINTEBfl.

tlia idsntical pamI«rB alluded to b; Vaaari, but
tfaat his nutstflTB and modeis irerB tlie BjzSintiiMi
paintera of tha tiitifl eeama to udmit of no doubt
wbaterer. Tba earliest of bis warke meatioDBd by
Vaaiiri etill eiiatB, — a St. Cecilia, painted for tha
ftltar of that saint, bat now preserved in the church
of Sun Ste&no. He vaa eooa afterwards employed
by'the monks of Vallombroaa, for whom he painted
a Madonna with Angela on a gold ground, noiT
preserved in the Academy of the Fine Arta, at
Florence. He also painted a CruciEiion for tba
church of tba Santa Croce, still to be seen there,
and several picturee for tha churchea of Pisa, to the
great contentment of tba Pi^atia ; and bj these and
other works his fame being spread Cir and near, be
was called in the jear 1265, when he was only
twenty-five, to Snish the frescoes in the church Df
St. Francis at Asaiai, which bad been t«gun by
Greek painters, and continued bj Giunta Pisano.

The deooration of thie celebrated church is mem-
orable in the history of painting. It ia known
that many of the best artists of the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries nera employed there; but only
fragments of the earliest piotorea eiiet, and the
authenticity of those ascribed to Cimabue has been
disputed by a great authority,* Lanzi, however,
and Dr. Kngler agree in attributing to him tha
paintings on the roof of the naTO, representing, i*
wodatlions, the flguras of Christ, the Sladoona, St

aiOVANNI CIMABD£. 17

Jobn tho Baptist, St. FranciB, ami the four Etod-
gelists. " The omameiits which Barronnd thuee
medallioDS are, however, mure interestiiig than the
madaUiona themHelres. In the lower conara of the
tiiaaglea are represented oaked GoDii, bearing taeta-
fill vases on their heads ; out of these grow rich
foliage and Uuwers, on which hang other Genii,
who pluck the fruit, or lurk La tlie cupa of th«
flowera."" If these are reall; by the band of
Cimahue, we must allow tbut here Is a groat step
in adrance of the formal monotonj of bis Greek
models. He eseouted many other pictures in this
famous church, " can diiigtnza infinila,'''' from the
Old and New Testament, in which, judging from
the frogmenta wbioh remain, he showed a decided
improvement in drawing, in dignit; of attitude,
and in the axpresaion of life, but still the Bgures
have only just so mnob of animation and signifi-
cance aa are abeolutelj necessarf to render the
itory or action intelligihle. There is no yariety,
no eiprasa imitation of nature. Being recalled by
hia affairs to Florence, about 1270, be painted
there the most celebrated of all hia works, the
Madonna and Infant Christ, for the church of
Santa Maria Novella. This Madonna, of a larger
Bize than any which had bean previously executed,
had excited in its prt^ress great curiosity and in-
Mreat among his fellow-citizece ; for Cimabue re-
fiuad to uncover it to public view. But it happened

18 BASLT ITAIJAK PAINTIRS.

ftbont thai time that Charles of Anjon, brother of
Louis IX., being on his way to take poflseesion of
the kingdom of Naples, passed through Florence,
and was reoeired and feasted bj the nobles of that
eity ; and, among other entertainments, they eooh
dacted him to yisit the atelier of Cimabue, which
was in a garden near the Porta San Piero. On
this festive occasion the Madonna was uncoyered^
and the people in joyous crowds hurried thither to
look upon it, rending the air with exclamations of
delight and astonishment, whence this quarter of
the city obtained and has kept ever since the name
of the Borgo Allegri. The Madonna, wh^i fin*
ished, was carried in great pomp from the atelier
of the painter to the church for which it was des-
tined, accompanied by the magistrates of the city,
by music, and by crowds of people, in solemn and
festive procession. This well-known anecdote has
lent a venerable charm to the picture, which is yet
to be seen in the church of Santa Maria Novella ;
but it is difficult in this advanced state of art to
lympathize in the ruHve enthusiasm it excited in
\he minds of a whole people six hundred years ago.
Though not without a certain grandeur, the form
is very stiff, with long, lean fingers and formal
drapery, little varying from the Byzantine models ;
Mit the Infimt Christ is better ; the angels on athei
nde have a certain elegance and dignity, and thi
soloring in its first freshness and delicacy had a
oharm hitherto unknown. After this. Cimabu«

GIOVANNI CIMABUB. 19

became &iaoas in all Italj- lie had a Mhoul of
painting at Florence, and many pupils; amcog
them onewlio was destined Ui take the sceptre &iim
his hand, imd fill all Italy with his fame, — and
who, but fur him, would have kept sheep in tha
Tuscan ToltejB ali his life, — the glorious Giotto,
of whom we are to speak prsaently, Cimshus,
besides being a painter, was a worker in moeiic and
■Jl architect. He woe employed, in conjunction
with Amolfo Lap!, In the building of the vhuroh
of Santa Maria del Fiore, at Flurooce. Finally,
having lived for more than sixty years in great
honor and renown, he died at Florence about tha
year 1302, while employed on the mosaics of the
Duomo of Pisa, and was carried front his house, in
the Via del Cocomero, to the church of Santa Mutia
del Fiore, where he wiis buried. The CJlowing
epitaph was inscribed above his tomb :

"OBBiam n

h Pom,"

Besides the undoubted works of Cimabue prfr
•erved in the churches of San Domenico, la Trmiti,
and Santa Maria Novella, at Florence, and in tha
Academy of ^rts in the same city, there are two
Madonnas in the Gallery of the Louvre (Nob. 950,
9S1) , recently brought there ; one as large as lif«,

• Clmabae Umnehl hf

rtat Owndd of palrdjig |

20 SABLT ITALIAN PAINTERS.

with angels, originallj painted for the convent o£
Bt. Francis, at Pisa, the other of a smaller size.
From these productions we may judge of the real
merit of Cimabue. In his figures of the Virgin he
adhered almost servilelj to the Byzantine models.
The faces are ugly and yapid, the features elon-
gated, the extremities meagre, the general effect
flat. But to his heads of prophets, patriarchs, and
apostles, whether introduced into his great pictures
of the Madonna, or in other sacred subjects, he
gave a certain grandeur of expression and largeness
of form, or, as Lanzi expresses it, '* un non so che
di forte e sublime," in which he has not been
greatly surpassed by succeeding painters ; and thii
energy of expression — his chief and distinguishing
excellence, and which gave him the superiority
over Guido of Sienna and others who painted only
Madonnas — was in harmony with his personal
character. He is described to us as exceedingly
haughty and disdainful, of a fiery temperament,
proud of his high lineage, his skill in his art, and
his various acquirements, for he was well studied
in all the literature of his age. If a critic found
&ult with one of his works when in progress, or if
he were himself dissatisfied with it, he would at
once destroy it, whatever pains it might have cost
him. From these traits of character, and the bent
sf his genius, which leaned to the grand and terri-
ble rather fhan the gentle and graceful, he has
labsequently been styled the Michael Angelo of his

liniu. It la racorded of him by Vivsari that h«
['olxite'l a head of St. Francis a/l^ naturi, a thing,
ha Bttje, till then unknown. It could not have beai
a portrait from liTa, becauea St. Fraacle died in
1225 : and the ofrlieet head aft«r nature which
temaiiiH to ub icas painted hy Giuntu Pisauo, dboiil
1235. It was tha portrait of Frate £lia, a iuodIc
of Asaiai. Perbapa Vasuri means tliat the San
Francesco was the firet representation of a Baered
personage for nhlch nature Lad been taken as a

There is a portrait of Cimabue copied irom a
Inuung of the original head, painted on the walls
of the Chapel degli Spagnuoli, in the chnrch of
Bonta Muria NorcUa, by Simone Memmi of Sienna,
wLowas at Florence during the lifetime of Cimabue,
and miiet hare known him peraonallj. This paint-
ing, though executed after the death of Cimabue,
has always been considered authentic as a portrait.
It is the same alluded to hj Vasari, and copied for
the firijt e<lition of his book.

Cimahuo bad Eeveral remarkable contemporaries.
rhe greatest of these, and certainly the groat^t
Utiet of hie time, was the sculptor Nicola Pisano.
The works of this extraordinary genius, which have
been preserved to our time, are so far beyond all
eonlemporary art in knowledge of form, grace,
expreesion, and intention, that, if indisputable
proofs of their authenticity did not exist, it would
be pronounced Incredible On a compariaon of the

22 BAELT ITAUAS PAINTKIUI.

works of Cimabue and Nicola Pisano, it is difficult
to conceive that Nicola executed the bas-reliefs of
the pulpit in the Cathedral of Pisa while Cimaba*
Whh painting the firescoes in the church of Assisi
Be was the first to .^Hi^e the stiff monotony of the
traditional forms for the study of nature and the
antique. The story says that his emulatiye fancy
wad early excited by the beautiful antique sarcoph
agns on which is fieen sculptured the Chase of
Hipolytus.* In this sarcophagus had been laid, »
hundred years before, the body of Beatrice, the
mother of the famous Countess Matilda. In the
time of Nicola it was placed, as an ornament, in
the Duomo of Pisa ; and as a youth he had looked
upon it from day to day, until the grace, the life
and movement of the figures struck him, in com«
parison with the barbarous art of his contempora-
ries, as nothing less than divine. Many before him
had looked on this marble wonder, but to none had
it spoken ae it spoke to him. He was the first,
says Lanzi, to see the li^t and to follow it.f lliere
le an engraving aftw one of his bas-rdiefii— a
Depontion from the Cross, in Ottley's '* School of
Des^," which should be referred to by thereadw«
who may not have seen his works at Pisa, Florence,

* Now preserved lu the Campo Santo, at Pisa.

f BosinI, in his ** Storia della Pittara," has rectified some errocw
kito wliicfa Yasari and Laosi baxt taSiem. with regard to the datet
if Vioola Pisano'f wans. ItappeacsthatheliTed acl worindft
htowUW.

I

UIOTANNl CUUSDE. 28

Aenna, and Orvieto. There an bIbo tevenil of
hia wotkB engraved in Cioognata'a "Storia d«Ua
Scultunt."

Another contemporary of Cimabue, and his friend,
was Andrea Tofi, the greatest worker in mosaic of
hia time. Ilie aEsertion. of Taeari. tbat be learned
hii art from tha Bjzantines, ia now diacreditad ; for
it appeani certain that the mosaic-workers uf Italj
(the foretuacets of puinting) eicellod the Greek ar~
tiets then, and for a centarj or two before. Andrea
Tafi died, very old, in 1294; and hie principal works
remain in iha Duomoof St. Mark, at Venice, and in
the church of San Giovanni, at Florence. Another
Ikmoua mosaic-worker, aUo an intimate fi'iend of
Cimabue, was Gaddo Gaddi, remarkable for being
the first of a family illuetrioue in several depart-
maats of art and literature. It must be remem-
bered tbat the moeiiic-workeis of those times pre-
pared and colored their own designs, and may,
therefore, take rank with the painters.

Further, there remain pictures by painters of the
Sienna school which date before the death of Cima-
bue, and particularly a picture by a certain Maeetro
Uino, dated 1289, which is spoken of as wonderful
lur the invention and greatness of style. Anothei
painter, who sprang from the Syzantine scliool,
and surpassed it, was Duccio of Sienna, who
painted from 1282 (twenty years before the death
of Cimabue) to about 1339, and " whose iiifiueQC«
BQ the progress of art was unquestionably great."

dn SABLT ITALIAN PAINTSB8.

A large picture by him, representing in many com*
partments the whole history of the P&fision of Christ,
is preserved at Sienna. It excited, like Gimabue's
Madonna, the pride and enthusiasm of his fellow-
oitizens, and is still regarded as wonderful for the
age in which it was produced.

All these men (Nicola Pisano excepted) still
worked on in the trammels of Byzantine art. The
first painter of his age who threw them wholly ofE^
and left them &r behind him, was Giotto.

— Clmibue tbuu^ht

I

Thbs« ollen-quoted lines, from Dante's " Purgar
lorio," must Deads bo once moro quotiid hero ; foi
it tea CQTJoua clrcumstaace tbat, applimblu in bis
own day, fire hundred jeara ago, tbcy sliould still
be ao applicable in outs. Open any common his-
tory, not intended for the very profound, and there
wo still find Cimabue " larding it over painting'!
field," and placed at the head of a revolution in art,
with which, as an artist, he bad little or nothing to
do, — bat mnch ae a, man ; for to him, to his quick
perception and gGnerouB protection of talent in ths
lowly shepherd-lMiy, wn owe Gioiio, than whom no
idnglo hurann being of whom wo read has oxerciEed,
in any particular department of science or art, a
nore immediate, wide, and Uieting influence. The

26 SABLT ITALIAN PAINTSE8.

total change in the direction and character of art
must, in all human probability, have taken place
Booner or later, since all the influences of that won-
derful period of r^eneration were tending towards
it. Then did architecture struggle as it were from
the Byzantine into the Gothic forms, like a mighty
plant putting for^ its rich foliage and shooting up
towards heaven ; then did the speech of the people
— the vulgar tongues, as they were called — begin
to assume their present structure, and become the
medium through which beauty and love and action
and feeling and thought were to be uttered and im-
mortalized; and then arose Giotto, the destined
instrument through which his own beautiful art
was to become, not a mere fashioner of idols, but
one of the great interpreters of the human soul with
all its << infinite " of feelings and faculties, and of
human life in all its multifarious aspects. Giotto
was the first painter who " held as it were the mir*
ror up to nature. ' ' Cimabue's strongest claim to the
gratitude of succeeding ages is, that he bequeathed
tuch a man to his native country and to the world.
About the year 1289, when Cimabue was already
old and at the height of his fiune, as he was riding
in the valley of Vespignano, about fourteen miles
from Mortice, his attention was attracted by a boy
who was herding sheep, and who, while his flocks
were feeding around, seoned intently drawing on a
smooth fragment of slate, with a bit of pointed
sUxie, the figure of one of his sheep as it was qui-

I

Mj grazing belbre him.. Cimabue roda up to him,
and, louking with iistuuiahment at t)ie perfurumncfl
of the uDtutontd bay, asked him it' he would go
with biin and learn ; to which the boy replioi), thivt
ha was right nilliiig, if hU father were content.
The fother, a herdanuui of the Tollej, by uamo
BondoQQ, being conaulted, gludly consented to the
wish of the noble etranger, and Giotto beoueforth
beoama the iniuate and pupil of Cimubue.

This pretty atory, which waa first related by Lo-
renzo Ohiberti, the sculptor (born 1378), andBinoe
by Vaeari and a thousand others, luckily rests on
evidence aa satisfactory as con be given for any
events of a rode and distant age, and may well
obtain our belief, as well aa gratify our fancy ; it
hue been the subject of mitny plcturea, and is intro-
duced in Kogera' " Italy ; "

" Lot ua iriiDdsr tliTough the fields

Where (^mBbus fonad the ahopherd-bo;
Tracing his idle famitoi on ths giouDJ.°

Oiotto was about twelve or fourteen years old
when taken into the bouse of Cimabue. For bis
instruction in thoae branches of polite learning
necesaary to an artist, his protector placed him
under the tuition of Brunetto La^ni, who wns also
the pracaptor of Dante. When, at the ago of
twenty-six, Giotto lost bis friend and muet«r, hs
wu already an accomplished man as wcU as a cele-
brated painter, and the inSuenca of his large origt-

28 B4BLY ITALIAN PAINTERS.

nal mind upon the later works of Cimabue !• dift
tinctlj to be traced.

The first recorded performance of Giotto was a
painting on the wall of the Palazzo dell' Podest)^
or council-chamber of Florence, in which wen
introduced the portraits of Dante, Brunetto Latini,
Corso Donati, and others. Yasari speaks of these
works as the first successful attempts at portraitnrs
in the history of modem art. They were soon after-
wards phistered or whitewashed over, during the
triumph of the enemies of Dante ; and for ages,
though known to exist, thej were lost and buried
from sight. The hope of recovering these most
interesting portraits had long been entertained, and
various attempts had been made at different times
without success, till at length, as late as 1840, they
were brought to light by the perseverance and en-
thusiasm of Mr. Bezzi, an Italian gentleman, now
residing in England. On comparing the head of
Dante, painted when he vras about thirty, prosper-
ous and distinguished in his native city, with the
later portraits of him when an exile, worn, wasted,
embittered by misfortune and disappointment and
wounded pride, the difference of expression is as
touching as the identity in feature is indubitable.

The attention which in his childhood Giotto seem»
to have given to all natural forms and appearances
showed itself in his earlier pictures ; he was the
first to whom it occurred to group his personages
into something like a situation, and to give to theii

I

oiono. 29

ittdtudaa iind Features the expioHsioD adapted to it
Thus, in a Teij earlj picture of the Annuadation
he gars to the Virgin a look of fear ; and in another,
painted eonie time alterwarda, of the FteeentatioE
in the Touplo, he made the Infant Christ shrink
Grom the prieet, and, turning. eiteDd hie little armt
to his mother — the Crat attempt at that epociea of
grace and natvetd of expreeslon afterwards carried
to parfeetion by Roffaelle. Thase and other works
painted in his native cit; so astonialied bis fellow-
dtiiena, and all who bebeld them, bj their beauty
Bnd noreltj, that the; seem to have wanted ade-
quate words in whicli to exjiress the ascesa of their
delight and admiration, and insisted that the figtina
of Giotto BO completely beguiled the souse that thfy
vera mistaken for realities ; a commonplace qu1o>
piim, never merited but by the moet commuoplaef
and mechanical of painters.

In the church of Santa Croce, Giotto painted s
Coronation of the Tirgin, s^ to be seen, with
choirs of angels on either side. In the refectory
lie painted the Last Supper, also still remaining ;
ft grand, solemn, simple composition, which, as a
first endeavor to give variety of eipression and atti-
tude toa number of persons, — all seated, and all
but two actuated ny a. similar feeling, — must still
be regarded as extraordinary. lu a chapel of ths
ebureh of the Carmine, at Florence, ho painted a
teries of pictures from the life of John the Baptist,
riieae were destroyed bf fire in 1771 ; but, happily

30 XA&LT ITALUH PAINT1B8.

An Englinh engraver^ then studjing at Florence^
named Patch, had previoualj made accurate draw-
ings from them, which he engiaved and published.
A fragment of the old fresco, containing the headf
of two of the Apostles, who are bending in grief
and devotion over the body of St. John, is now in
the collection of Mr. Rogers, the poet. It certainly
justifies all that has been said of Giotto's power of
expression, and, when compared with the remains
of earlier art, more than excuses the wonder and
enthusiasm of his contemporaries.

The pope, Boniface ViU., hearing of his marvel-
lous skill, invited him to Rome ; and the story says,
that the messenger of his holiness, wishing to have
some proof that Giotto was indeed the man he was
in search of, desired to see ii specimen of his excel*
lence in his art ; hereupon Giotto, taking up a
sheet of paper, traced on it, with a single flourish of
his hand, a circle so perfect that ** it was a miracle
to see ; " and (though we know not how or why)
seems to have at once converted the pope to a belief
of his superiority over all other painters. This
story gave rise to the well-known Italian proverb,
'< Pm tondo cheVOdi Giotto " (rounder than the
of Giotto), and is something like a story told of
one of the Grecian painters. But to return.— Giotto
went to Rome, and there executed many things
which raised his &me higher and higher ; and
among them, for the ancient Basilica of St. Peter's, ^
the famous mosaic of the NaviceUa^ or the Barem

•a it is aometimes called It ispieaimts a ship,
with the DiacipIeB, oa a tempfstuous sea ; th<
winds, persunified as demoDB, raga around iL
Abora ara the F&tliors uf tho Old TestameDt ; o«
the right ataoda Christ, raising PatM" from the
wavae. The subject has an all^orical significance,
denoting the traubles and triumphs of the Church,
This mosaic has often changed its situation, and
has been restored again and again, till nothing of
Giotto's vrock remaina but tba original cotnpoaition
It is now in the yestibula of St. Peter's, at Roma.
I For the same Pope Bonibce, Giotto painted the
I IttstitutioQ of the Jubilee of 1300, frbich still as-
inCa in the Lateran, at Rome.

In Padua Qiotlo painted the chapel of the Arena
witb fresGOQs, from the life of Christ and the Vii^
gin, in lift; square compurtni^its. Of this chapel
the lata Lady Calleott published an interesting bo-
eonnt. There is exoeading grace and simplicltj in
Mne of the outline groups with wiilch her work ia
QluEtrated, particularly the Marriage of the Virgin
and St. Joseph. At Padua Giotto met hia friend
Dante ; and the influence of one great genius on
another is atrongly esemplifiod in some of his su<v
ceeding works, and particularly in hia next grand
perfonnance, the freecoea in the church of Aaain.
In the nnder church, and immediately over the
tomb cf St. Francia, the painter represented tba
three Towa of the Order — Poverty, Chastity, and
Obedience: and in the fourth compartmenl, tbt

6jt EABLT ITALIAN PAINTKBS.

Saint enthroned and glorified amidst the host of
heaven. The invention of the allegories under
which Giotto has represented the vov^s of the Saint,
his Marriage vrith Poverty, — Chastity seated in
her rocky fortress, — and Obedience ¥rith the curb
and yoke, are ascribed by a tradition to Dante.
Giotto also painted, in the Campo Santo, at Pisa,
the whole history of Job, of which only some frag-
ments remain.

By the time Giotto had attained his thirtieth
year, he had reached such hitherto unknown ex-
cellence in art, and his celebrity was so universal^
that every city and every petty sovereign in Italy
oontcnded for the honor of his presence and hi«
pencil, and tempted him with the promise of rich
rewards. For the lords of Arezzo, of Rimini, and
Ravenna, and for the Duke of Milan, he executed
many works, now almost wholly perished. Cao>
truccio Castricani, the warlike tyrant of Lucca,
also employed him ; but how Giotto was induced
to listen to the offers of this enemy of his country
is not explained. Perhaps Castruccio, as the head
of the Gbibelline party, in which Giotto had ap
parently enrolled himself, appeared in the light of
a friend rather than an enemy. However this may
be, a picture which Giotto painted for Castruccio,
and in which he introduced the portrait of the
tyrant, with a falcon on his fist, is still preserved
^ the Lyceum at Lucca. For Guido da Polente,
the fikther of that hapless Francesca di Rimini,

I

siorro. 83

frhose story ib bo beautifully told by Dante, ha
pointed tlie interior of a churuh ; and furMalateeta
di Rimini (who was father of Francceca'B husband)
lie painted the portrait of thnt piinca in a bark,
with his companions and a coinpanj of marinsTB ;
and among them, Vasari tells us, was the figure of
a sailor, who, turning round with hia hand before
liiB iace, is is the act of spitting in the sea, so life-
like as to Btrite the beboldcrB with amaiement.
IThia has perished. But the figure of the thirsty
nan stuoping to drink. Id one of the freecoee at
ABsiei, Btill remuins, to show the kind ofeiceilence
through which Giotto eicltol such udmiration ia
his contemporariea, — a power of imitation, a truth
in the expreeeion of natural actions and feelings,
to which painting had neyer yet ascended or de-
ecfmded. This leaning to the aclual and the real
has been made a subject of reproach, to which wa
shall hereafter refer.

It is Buid — but this does not rest on ^ery satis-
feotory evidence — that Giotto also visited Avig-
Don, ia the (laia of Pope Clement T., and painted
there tho portraits of Petrarch and Laura.

About the year 132T, King Bobert of Naples, the
fkther of Queen Joanna, wrote to hia eon, the Duka
of Calabria, then at Florence, to send to him, oa
Bny terms, the famous painter Giotto ; who accord-
ingly travelled to the court of NaploB, stopping on
bia way in sereral cities, where he left Hpefimena
of his skill. He also Tialted Orvieto for tho pur-

34 EABLT ITALIAN PAINTXRS.

pose of yiewing the sculpture with which th«
brothers Agostino and Agnolo were decorating the
cathedral ; and not only bestowed on it high com-
mendation, but obtained for the artists the praise
and patronage they merited. There is at Gaeta a
Crucifixion painted by Giotto, either on his way to
Naples or on his return, in which he introduced
himself kneeling in an attitude of deep devotion and
contrition at the foot of the cross. This introduc-
tion of portraiture into a subject so awful wae
another innovation, not so praiseworthy as some
of his alterations. Giotto's feeling for truth and
propriety of expression is particularly remarkable
and commendable in the alteration of the dreadful
but popular subject of the crucifix. In the Byzan-*
tine school, the sole aim seems to have been to rep-
resent physical agony, and to render it, by every
species of distortion and exaggeration, as terrible
and repulsive as possible. Giotto was the first to
pofben this awful and painful figure by an expres-
sion of divine resignation, and by greater attention
to beauty of form. A Crucifixion painted by him
became the model for his scholars, and was multi-
plied by imitation through all Italy; so that a
famous painter of crucifixes after the Greek &8h-
ion, Margaritone, who had been a friend and cod-
temporary of Cimabue, confounded by the intra
duction of this new method of art, which he partly
disdained and partly despaired to imitate, and old
enough to hate innovations of all kinds, took to

Bb bad " mfastidiCo " (througliTezatioii}, and w
died.

But to return to Giotto, wbom we lefl on tba
road to Naples. King Kobert rec^red him witli
groat honor and rejoicing, and, belnj; a, monarch of
singular aoooroplialinioatB, and fond of the soeie^
of learned and diatingnishsd men, he soon found
that Giotto wua not merely a painter, but a man
of (he world, a man of vsrioue acquiromentE, nhou
general reputation for wit and viTOcItj was not on-
merited. Ho would Bometimea viait the painter at
bis work, and, while watching the rapid progrew
of hiB pencil, amused himself with the quaint good
sense of hia discourse. " If I were you, Giotto,"
iaid the king to liira, one very hot day, " T would
laaye off work, and reat myself." — " And so would
I, Eire," replied the painter, "if 1 were you!"
The king, in a playful mood, desired him to paint
hia kingdom ; on which Giotto immediately sketched
the figure of an ass, with a heavy pack-aaddle on
bis back, smiilling with an eager air at another
pack-saddle lying on the ground, on which ware a
orown and aceptre. By this emblem the satirical
painter expressed the servility and the flctlenesa of
the Neapolitans, and the king at once understood
the alius! m.

While at Naples Giotto painted in the church of
th» luooronati a aeries of froacoes representing tha
Seven Sacraments according to the Roman rituaL
rhese still exist, and are among the moat authentia

86 XARLT ITUJAN PAINT1B8.

and beet preserved of his works. The SaerameaA
of Marriage contains many female figures, beauti*
fiillj designed and grouped, with graceful heads
and flowing draperies. This picture is tradition-
ally said to represent the marriagd of Joanna of
Naples and Louis of Taranto ; but Giotto died In
1336, and these famous espousals took place in
1347. A dry date will sometimes confound a very
pretty theory. In the Sacrament of Ordination
there is a group of chanting-boys, in which the
various expressions of the act of singing are given
with that truth of imitation which made Giotto the
wonder of his day. His paintings from the Apoc-
alypse, in the church of Santa Chiara, were white-
washed over, about two centuries age, by a certain
prior of the convent, because, in the opinion of this
barbarian, they made the church look dark J

Giotto quitted Naples about the year 1328, and
returned to his native city with great increase of
riches and fame. He continued his works with an«
abated application, assisted by his pupils ; for his
school was now the most famous in Italy. Like
most of the early Italian artists, he was an archi-
tect and sculptor, as well as a painter ; and his last
public work was the famous Campanile, or Bell-
tower, at Florence, founded in 1334, for which he
made all the designs, and even executed with his
ovni hand the models for the sculpture on the three
lower divisions. According to Eugler, they form
a regular series of subjects, illustrating the develop

OlOTTO. 87

iBinit of human caltoie, through religion iiii<] lawa,
" conceived," eajB the same authority, " with pro-
found wiadom." When the Emperor Charlae V,
■aw thia elegant Htructure, ha exclaiuad that it
ought to ha "kept under glass," Iii the Buma
all^orical taEte Giotto painted many pictures of
the Virtues andYicee, ingeniously invented, and
tendered with great attention to natural and ap>
propriata expression. In these nnd similar repr»-
iantations wa trace distinctly the influenc-e of the
L,geniue of Dante. A short time hefora hie death ha
Vvae invited to Milan by Azzo Visconti. lie exe-
PBiitod some admirable frescoes in the ancient palaca
ot tha Dukes of Milan ; bnt thasa have perished.
Finally, having retarned to Florence, hasoon after-
maia died, " yielding up his soul to God in the
jvtx 133G; and having been," adds Vaaarl, "no
lees a good Christian than an oKcellent painter."
Be was honorably interred in tha church of Santa
Maria del Fiore, where bis master Cimabue had
been laid with similar honors, thirty-five yeara
before. Lorenzo de' Medici afterwards placed
above hia tomb his effigy in marble. Giotto left
IS and fonr daughterr but we do not hear

kthat any of his descendants became dieUnguished
In art or otherwise."

S8 BABLT ITALIAN PAINTERS.

Before we proceed to give some account of ibt
personal character and influence of Giotto, both m
a man and an artist, of which many amuwing and
interesting traits have been handed down to us, we
must turn for a moment to reconsider that revdlQ-
tion in art, which originated with him, — which
seized at once on all imaginations, all sympathies ;
which Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch, have aU
commemorated in immortal verse or as immortal
prose ; which, during a whole century, filled Italy
and Sicily with disciples formed in the same school,
and penetrated with the same ideas. All that had
been done in painting, before Giotto, resolved itself
into the imitation of certain existing models, and
their improvement to a certain point in style of
execution. There was no new method. The Greek*
ifdi types were everywhere seen, more or less modi-
fied, — a Madonna in the middle, with a couple of
lank saints or angels stuck on each side ; or saintfl
bearing symbols, or with their names written over
their heads, and texts of Scripture proceeding from
(heir mouths ; or, at the most, a few figures, placed
in such a position relatively to each other as 8uf>
ficed to make a story intelligible, the arrangemoit
being generally traditional and arbitrary. Such
teems to have been the limit to which painting had
advanced previous to 1280.

Giotto appeared ; and almost from the beginning
of his career he not only deviated from the practiot
•f the older painters, but stood opposed to them.

BtOTTO. 3^

lie mit only improvod — he otanged ; he placed
bimself on whoUj new graimd. He-took up tboN
priiicip'eB which Nicula FisftDO had tipplied to
sculpture, nod went tt) the Bamesourms, — to nature,
nnd to those remaine if pure antEque art which
showed him how to look at nature. His reeidenco
at Rome while jfnt joiing, and in all the £ret glow-
ing development of his creative powers, iDuat have
hod an incalnuiabla influence on his after-worlcB.
Deficient to the end of hie life in the knowledge of
tbnn, be wps deficient in that kind of beauty which
depends on form , but hia feeling for grace and har
noDj in the aira of his heads and tlie airaiigetneDt
jf his groups was exquisite ; and tha longer he
practised bia art, the more free and flowing became
his lines. But, beyond grace and beyond beauty,
he aimed at the expression of natural character and
emotion, in order to render intelligible his newly-
invented Bcenee of action and his religiouB allego-
ries. A writ«r near hia time apeake of it oa some-
thing new and wonderful tlrnt in Giotto's pieturea
'* the personages who are in grief look melancholy,
and those who are joyous look gay." For hia
heade he introduced a new type, eiactly rereraing
the Greek pattern : long-shaped, half-shut eyea ; a
long, straight nose ; and a very short chin. The
baada are rather delicately drawn, but he could not
design tlie feet well, for which reason sve generally
iud those of iaa men clothed in ebocE or sandal*
wherever it is possible, and those of his women cot*

40 XARLY ITAUAN PAIHTIB8.

ered with flowing drapery. The managemflnt ol
bis draperies is, indeed, particolarlj oharacteristio ;
distinguished bj a certain lengthiness and naxrow-
ness in the folds, in which, however, there is much
taste and simplicity, though, in point of style, jm
tax firom the antique as from the complicated mevL«
ness of the Byzantine models ; and it is curious that
this peculiar treatment of the drapery, these long
perpendicular folds, correspond in character with
the principles of Gothic architecture, and with it
rose and declined. For the stiff, wooden limbs, and
motionless figures, of the Byzantine school, he sub-
stituted life, moTement, and the look, at least, of
flexibility. His notions of grouping and arrange-
ment he seems to have taken from the ancient basso-
relicTos ; there is a statuesque grace and simplicity
in his compositions which reminds us of them. His
style of coloring and execution was, like all the
rest, an innovation on received methods ; his colors
were lighter and more roseate than had ever been
known, the fluid by which they were tempered
more thin and easily managed, and his frescoes
must have been skilfully executed to have stood so
well as they have done. Their duration is, indeed,
nothing compared to the Egyptian remains; but
the latter have been for ages covered up from light
and air, in a dry, sandy climate. Those of Giotto
have been exposed to all the vicissitudes of weather
and of underground damp, have been whitewashed
and every way ill-treated, yet the fragments which

aioTTO. 41

nmain Iiove still a. aurprising friiatuiesB, ajid hii
diatempeF pictur>^ are still n'Ouderfiil. It is to be
regretted that ttiu reader cannot be referred to ftitj
collection in England for an eiample of tha char*
tct«riBtic8 here enumerated. We have not in tha
National Gallerj a single example of Giotto or hia
■cbolara; the earliest picture we have is dated
nearlj two hundred years after his denth. Tha
onlj one in the Louvre (a. St. Fronaia, as large m
life) is dubious and unworthy of him. In tlie Flor-
entine Qallery are t!u;ea pictures ; Christ on tha
Uoont of Olives, one of his best works ; and two
Madonnas, with graceful angela. In the gallery of
the Academy of Arts, in the soma city, are mora
Ihon twenty small pictures (the best norks of Giotto
ore on a amoli scale — these measure about a foot in
height). Two of tbe same series are at Berlin, all
representing subjects from tbe life and acts of Christ,
of the Virgin, or St. Francis. ThusB who are ouri-
3UB may consult the uugravings after Giotto, in tha
plates to the "Storia della Pittuia," of Rosini;
those in D'Agincourt's " Uiatoiro do I'Art par lea
Monumens ; " and in Ottley'a "Early Italian
School," a copy of which is in the British Museum.
Giotto's personal character and disposition liud
no BiDoll part in the revolution be effected. In tha
uiuon of endowments which seldom meet together
XI tlie same individual — extraordinary inventive
I Mid poetical genius, with sound, practical, eoer-
I jetio sense, and untiring activi^ and encrgf -"

(2 BABLY ITALIAN PAINTERS.

Giotto resembled Rubens ; and only this rare com*
bination could have enabled him to fling off so oom^
pletelj all the fetters of the old style, and to haTS
executed the amazing number of works which are
with reason attributed to him. His character waa
as independent in other matters as in his own art.
He seems to have had little reverence for received
opinions about anything, and was singularly free
from the superstitious enthusiasm of the times in
which he lived, although he lent his powers to em-
bodying that very superstition. Perhaps the very
circumstance of his being employed in painting
the interiors of churches and monasteries opened
to his acute, discerning, and independent mind
reflections which took away some of the respect for
the mysteries they concealed. There is extant a
poem of Giotto's, entitled " A Song against Pov-
erty," which becomes still more piquante in itself,
and expressive of the peculiar turn of Giotto's mind,
when we remember that he had painted the Glorifi-
cation of Poverty as the Bride of St. Francis, and
that in those days songs in praise of poverty were as
fashionable as devotion to St. Francis, the '' Patri-
arch of Poverty." Giotto was celebrated, too, for
his joyous temper, for his witty and satirical repar-
tees, and seems to have been as careful of his worldly
goods as he was diligent in acquiring them. Boc-
caccio relates an anecdote of him, not very import*
ant, but, as it contains several traits which are
^vertingly characteristic, we will give it here ;

I

GIOITD. 43

»'Fair and dear ladies ! " (Th'iH tho noTelist ii
vost to oddreSB bis auditory.) ' It is a woadroua
tiling to sea how oftentimee Datura bath beea
pletiaed to bido ^'itttin the meet laiBBbapeD forma
the most wondrous troaBarcs of soul, wiiicli m evi-
dent in the perBoas of two of oar fellow-i^itizenB, of
wliom I eball nowbrieQjdiscoarse t/> jou. Messer
Forese da Babaittai, the advocate, being a personags
of the most extiaurdinary wisdom, and learned in
the law aijove all othera, yet was in body mean
and deformed, with, thereunto, a Sat, currieh
(ricagrtoio) physiognomj ; and Measer Giutto, who
was not in face or person one whit better favored
than the said MeHaei Forese, had a genius of that
esoeUenee, that there wiu notliing which nature
(wboiB the wother of all things) could bring furth,
but he with his ready peooil would so wondrouelj
imitate it, that it eoemed not only similar, but Ihe
tame I thus deluding the Tiaual senw of men, eo
ttut they deemed that what was only pictured
before them did in reality esist. And seeing that
through Giotto that aTt was restored to tight which
had been for many centuries buried (through fault
of those who, in painting, addressed themBelvce to
plAaaa the eye of the vulgar, and not to content the
understanding of the wise), I esteem him worthy to
be placed among those who have made famuuB end
^oriouB this our city of Florence. Neverthel«8,
though so great a man in iiis art, he was but littlt
ID persm, and, aa I have said, Hl'faTored enougb

f4 KAKLY IXAIXAH PAISTEBfl.

Now, it happened that Measer Foiese and Qiotto
had poesesBions in land in MogeUo, which is on tht
road leading firom Florence to Bologna, and thither
thej rode one day on their respective affiurs, MesBec
Forese being mounted on a sorry hired jade, and
the other in no better case. It was sommor, and
the rain came on suddenly and foriously, and thej
hastened to take shelter in the house of a peasant
thereabouts, who was known to them ; but, the
storm still prevailing, they, considering that thefy
must of necessity return to Florence the same day,
borrowed from the peasant two old, worn-out piK
grim-cloaks, and two rusty old hats, and so they
set forth. They had not proceeded very fiur, when
they found themselves wet through with the rain,
and all bespattered with the mud ; but, after a
while, the weather clearing in some small degree,
they took heart, and from being silent they began
to discourse of various matters. Messer Forese
having listened a while to Giotto, who was in truth
a man most eloquent and lively in speech, could not
help casting on him a glance as he rode alongside ;
and, considering him from head to foot thus wet,
ragged, and splashed all over, and thus mounted
and accoutred, and not taking his own appearance
into account, he laughed aloud. ' 0, Giotto,' said
he, jeeringly, < if a stranger were now to meet us,
oould he, looking on you, believe it possible that
you were the greatest painter in the whole world?
— < Certainly,' quoth Giotto, with a side glance at

Qiono,

46

I

his companion, ' certainlj, if, looking upon jout
warship, lie oould bolieve it poteible that jou knen
your ABC!' Whereii pon Weeser FoKse could
not but confces that be hud been paid in his own

Thic is one of manj humoruua reparteea which
troditioa has preserved, and an inatuuca of that
reodinees of wit — that jtrontaza — for which Gi-
otto VS3.S admired ; in fact, he seems to have pre>
sented iu bimsalf, in the union of depth and liveli-
ness, of poetical fancj and worldlj Bense, of inde-
pendent spirit and polished suavity, an epitome of
the national character of the Florentines, such as
Eismondi has drawn it. We learn, from the hyper-
boles ased bj Boccacoio, the sort of rapturous sur-
priae which Oiotb>'s imitation of life caused in his
imaginative contcmporariea, and which assuredly
they would be far from exciting now ; and the
unneremoniouB description oF his parson becomee
more amusing when we recollect that Buccuccio
inuBt have lived in personal interoouraB with the
painter, as did Petrarch and Dante. When Giotto
died, in 1336, his friend Dante had been dead flfleeii
years ; Petrarch was thirty-two, and Boccaccio
twenty-three years of age. When Patrorch died,
in 13T4, he leit to his friend Francesco da Carrara,
Lord of Padua, a Madonna, painted by Giotto, a^
a most precious legacy, " a wonderful piece of
work, of which the ignorant might overlook tlis
beaatiea, but which the learned must regard with

46 XARLT ITALIAK PAINTEB8.

amazemeDt." All ¥rrit6r8 who treat of the anciaQt
glories of Florenoe, — Florence the beautiful, Floiw
Mice the free, —from Yillani down to Sismcnidi,
count Giotto in the roll of her greatest men. An-
tiquaries and connoisseurs in art search out and
study the relics which remain to us, and recogniM
in them the dawn of that splendor which reached
its zenith in the beginning of the sixteenth century;
while to the philosophic obserrer Giotto appears
as one of those few heaven-endowed beings whose
deyelopm^it springs from a source within, — one
of those unconscioas instruments in the hand of
ProYidence, who, in seeking their own profit and
delight through the expansion of their own facul-
ties, make unawares a step forward in human cul-
ture, lend a new impulse to human aspirations,
and, like the " bright morning star, day's harbin-
ger," may be merged in the succeeding radiance,
but never forgotten.

Before we pass on to the scholars and imitators
of Giotto, who during the next century filled all
Italy with schools of art, we may here make men-
tion of one or two of his contemporaries, not so
much for any performances left behind them, but
because they have been commemorated by men
more celebrated than themselves, and survive em-
balmed in their works as '< flies in amber." Dante
has mentioned, in his *< Purgatorio," two painters
of the time, famous for their miniature illustrations
of Missals and MSS. Before the invention of print*

I

flioiTo. 47

lag, and Indeed for aone time aRer, tlus was an

importunt branch of art. It flouriebed from tha
dajs of Cbarlamagne to tlioae of Charlia V., and
was a aouice of honor as -well ae riuiiue to tlie luy-
moQ who pructised it. Many, however, of the moat
baautiful specuueus of illumluated maaiiscripU ara
the work of the muuelesa Benedictine monks, who
labored in the eileuue and eculuaion of their con
venta, and who yielded to their comniunitj moat of
the honor and all the profit. This was not the casa
with Oderigi, whom Dante hiia repreaented a.9 ex-
piating in purgatoij liie oaoeBBiTe vanity ae a
paintar, and humbly giving the palm to unother,
Franco Bobgneee, of whom there remains no rello
but a Madonna, engraved in Bosini's " Storia della
Pittura." Ha retaiua, however, a name as the
founder of the early Bologimao Bchool. The fume
of Bafiulinacco as a jovial companion, and the tales
told in Boccaccio of his many inventions and the
trieka he played oa his brotlier-pointer, the aimpla
Calondrino, have survived almost every relio of his
pencil. Yut be appears to have boon a good painter
of that time, and to have imitated, in his later
works, the graceful aimplicity of Giotto.* He had
kIbo much honor and eaJHcient employment, bo^,

* An eleguit llltlc agare of 31. ODthericE, attributed (o BdITbI

PD SahU, at FlM, fO

18 XAELT HAUAN PADTTSBS.

haying been more intent on spending than earnings
he died nuserablj poor in 1340.

Gavallini studied under Giotto, at Rome, bat
seems never to have wholly laid aside the Greekish
Biyle in which he had been first educated. He was
a man of extreme simplicity and sanctity of mind
and manners, and felt some scruples in condemning
as an artist the Madonnas before which he had
knelt in prayer. This feeling of earnest piety ho
communicated to all his works. There is by him
a picture of the Annunciation preserved in tho
church of St. Mark, at Florence, in which the ex-
pression of piety and modesty in the Virgin, and of
reverence in the kneeling angel, is perfectly beau-
tiful. The same devout feeling enabled him to risi
to the sublime in a grand picture of the Crucifixion
which he painted in the church of Assisi, and whioh
Is reckoned one of the most important monumenti
of the Giotto school. The resignation of the divine
sufferer, the lamenting angels, the fainting Virgin,
the groups of Roman soldiers, are all painted with
a truth and feeling quite wonderful for the timo.
Engravings after Gavallini may be found in Ot-
tley's ** Early Italian School," and in Rosini (p.
21) . He became the pupil of Giotto when nearly
forty years old, and survived him only a short
time, dying in 1340. With Gavallini begins the
ust of painters of the Roman school, afterwarcCS so
illustrious. Among the contemporaries of Giotte
we must refer once more to Duccio of Sienna.

aiono. 49

Fboagli an eatablished pamtor m faia native citj

«rhan Giotto waa a child, his later wnrks show that
tha infloenco of that joung and daring spirit had
giren a naw impnlae to his mind. Hii beet picture,
«tiU preserved, and described with enthusioHni in
Eugler's "Handbook," was painted in 1311.
Duccio died very old, about 1339.
I The achaloTB and imitators of Giotbi , who adopted
I the Daw method {il nuovo TiKtodo) , as it was then
r oaUed, and who coUectivelj are distinguished at
the Sciiola (holUsca, may be divided into two
olassea; 1. Those who were moroly hU oteiBtanta
and imitators, who oonEned themsolves to tlie ro-
production of tha models left bj their maater.
2. Those who, gifted with original geniuB, followed
his aiample rather than his instructions, puraned
the path be had opened to them, introduced hotter
methods of study, more correct defiign. and carried
on in TartouB departments tha advance of art Intu
the roocaeding century.

Of the firsl^it is not necesBarj to speak. Among
the men of great and original genius who immedi-
ately succeeded Giotto, tbbsii must be especially
mentioned for tha importance of the works they
have left, and for the influence they exercised od
IhOM who came after them. These were Andren
Oroagna, Simone Memmi, and Taddeo Gaddi.

The first of those, Andrea Cioni, commonly callad
AnnREA Ohcaona, did not study under Giotto, but
owed much indirectly to thai vivifying influenos

M) XilALY ITALIAN PAINTBB8.

which he breathed through art. Andrea was tht
■on of a goldsmith at Florence. The goldsmithi
of the fourteenth and fifteenth oentories were in
general excellent designers, and not unfirequentlj
became painters, as in the instances of Franda,
Yerrochio, Andrea del Sarto, &o, Andrea appar-
ently learned design under the tuition of his
&ther. Rosini places his birth previous to the
jear 1310. In the year 1332 he had already ac-
quired so much celebrity, that he was called upon
tc continue the decoration of the Gampo Santo at
Pisa.

This seems the proper place to give a more de-
tailed account of one of the most extraordinary and
interesting monuments of the middle ages. The
Campo Santo of Pisa, like the cathedral at Assisi,
was an arena in which the best artists of the time
were summoned to try their powers ; but the in-
fluence of the fireecoes in the Campo Santo on the
progress and development of art was yet more direct
and important than that of the paip tings in the
church of Assisi.

The Campo Santo, or the " Holy Field," once a
cemetery, though no longer used as such, is an open
space of about four hundred feet in length and one
hundred and eighteen feet in breadth, enclosed with
high walls, and an arcade, something like the clois-
ters of a monastery, or cathedral, running all
round it. On the east side is a large chapel, and
•Q the north two smaller chapels, where prayen

OIOTTO, 51

a celebnited for the repose (if tbe
I dead. Tiie open apace was filled with earth brought
' from the Holy Laod bj the merchant Bhijta of Piaa,
which traded to the Levant in the days of it; com-
mercial splendor. This open space, odco sown
with gravoH, IB now covered with green turl. At
the four comers are four tall cjprees- trees, their
dark, moDninental, spiral forms contrasting with
a little lowlj' oross in the centre, round which iTj
or some other creeping plant has wound a luxarU
ant bower. The beautiful Gothic arcade was de-
signed and built abuut 1283 bj Giovanni Pisano,
the son of the great Nicola Pisano alreodj men-
tioned. This itrcode, on the aide next the burial-
ground, is pierced by sisty-two windows of elegant
I tracery, divided from each other by slender piloa-
' ters ; upwards of six hundred sepulchral monu-
ments of the nobles and citizens of Pisa are ranged
along the marble pavements, and mingled with
theui are some antique remains of gntat beauty
which the Pisans in former times brought from tht
Greek Mes. Ilere also is seen the famous sarcoph-
agus which first inspired the genius of Micols
Pisano, and b which had been deposited the bod;
of Beatrix, mother of the famous Countess Slatilda
The walls opposite to the windows were painted in
the fourteenth and fifleanth centuries with scrip-
tural subjects. Most of theee are half ruined bj
. time, n^lect, and damp ; some only pr<»eot frag-
[' vents — here an arm, tliere a head ; and the bert

12 XA&LT ITALIAN PAINTXB8

preterred are &ded, discolored, ghasilj in appeaf^
ance, and solemn in subject. The whole aspect of
this singular place, particularly to those who
wander through its long arcades at the dose of day,
when the figures on the pictured walls look dim
and spectral through the gloom, and the cypu M su m
assume a blacker hue, and all the associations con-
nected with its sacred purpose and its history rise
upon the fancy, has in its silence and solitude
and religious destination, something inexjnressibly
strange, dreamy, solemn, almost awful. Sem in
the broad glare of noonday, the place and the pio^
tures lose something of their power over the &ncy,
and that which last night haunted us as a vision^
to-day we examine, study, criticize.

The building of the Campo Santo was scarcely
finished when the best painters of the time were
summoned to paint the Tails all round the interiox
with appropriate subjects. This was a work of
many years. It was indeed continued at intervalfl
through two centuries ; and thus we have a series
of illustrations of the progress of art during its first
development, of the religious influences of the age,
and even of the habits and manners of the people,
which are faithfully exhibited in some of these most
extraordinary compositions.

Those first executed, in the large chapel and on
the walls of the cloisters, at the end of the thii^
teenth and in the very beginning of the fourteenth
•entury, have perished wholly ; the earliest in date

(aoiTO. 68

which Btill exiBt reproHeat tho PaBsion of out
Saviour in a rude but Eulemn atjie. We find linre
the ai.'coiiipauiineiiU usual iu this subjeut fniiu tha
earliest time, and nhicli, from their perpetual rep>
etitiua down lo a Into periud, appear tu be tiik
ditional — the lacoenting angels, tha Borrowing
WoiaeD, the Vii^iu fainting at tha foot of the cross.
Two ODgele at the head of the repentant thief pre-
pare to carry his eoul into Paradise ; two demons
[eruhed on the uroesof tha reprobate thief ara ready
to eeize his spirit the moment it is released, asd
bear it to the regiona below. This freauo and
tnother have been traditionallj' attributed to the
Bufialmacuo of fauatious memory, utreadj men<
doncd 1 hut this is now supposed to ha an error.

A series of subjects from tha Book of Job woa
painted bj Giotto. Of these only fragments remain,
rhen followed Akdoea Obcigma i and tha subject*
wlected by hitn were such as harmonized peculiarly
with the destination of these sacred precincts.
The; were to repteeent in four great compartments
what tha Italians coll " I quattro ntfvissimi,' that
ia, the four last or latest things — Death, Judg-
ment, Hell, or Purgatory, and Paradise ; but onlj
three were completed.

The first is styled tha Triuniph of Death (JT 3V».

Otifo deila Morle). It is full of poetry, and abound-

I big lu ideas then new in pictorial art. On the

I right is a festive company of ladies and cavaliers,

1 Ifho by tlieir falcons and dogs appear to be returned

64 XAELT ITAUAH PAIHTIBa.

from the chase. Thej are seated under oiaiige-
trees, and splendidly attired; rich carpets ai6
spread at their feet. A trouhadoor and singing-
girl amuse them with flattering songs; Capids
flutter around them and wave their torches. AU
the pleasures of sense and jojs of earth are here
united. On the left Death approaches with rapid
flight, — a fearful-looking woman, with wild stream*
ing hair, claws instead of nails, large bats' wings,
and indestructible wire-woven drapery. She swings
a scythe in her hand, and is on the point of mow-
ing down the joys of the company. (This female
impersonation of Death is supposed to be borrowed
from Petrarch, whose *' Trionfo della Morte " was
written about this time.) A host of corpses closely
pressed together lie at her feet. By their insignia
they are almost all to be recognized as the former
rulers of the world, — kings, queens, cardinals,
bishops, princes, warriors, &c. Their souls rise
out of them in the form of new-bom infi&nts;
angels and demons are ready to receive them ; the
souls of the pious fold their hands in prayer ; those
of the condemned shrink back in horror. The
angels are peculiarly yet happily conceived, with
bird-like forms and variegated plumage ; the devils
have the semblance of beasts of prey or of disgust-
ing reptiles. They fight with each other. On the
right the angels ascend to heaven with those they
oave saved, while the demons drag their prey to a
fiery mountain, visible on the left, and hurl thi

aityno 66

■OuIb down iutj the flames. Nest to theso corpBM
IB s, crowd of beggars and cripples, who with oiit-
■tretctied arms call upon Death to end their sor-
rows ; but she heeds not their prayer, and hoM
already passed them in her flight. A rook sepa-
ratee this ecene from another, in which i» rehire-
Hoted a second hunting party descending the moun-
tain by a hoUow path ; here again are richly-attired
princes and dameeon horses splendidly caporieoned,
and a train of hunters with falcons and dogs. Th«
path has led them to three open Eepulchras in the
left corner of the picture ; in them lie the bodies
of three princes, in diiferont stages of decay. Close
by, in extreme old age and supported on crutches.
Stands the old hermit St. Macarius, who, turning
to the princes, points down to this bitter " Klomento
mori." They look on apparently with indifference,
and one of them holds bis nose, as if incommoded
by the horrible stench. One queenly lady alone,
deeply moved, rests her bead on her band, her
countenance full of a pensive sorrow. On the
mountain heights are saverat hermits, who, in con-
trast to the followers of the joys of the world, have
attained in a life of contemplation and abstinence
to a state of tranquil blessedness. One of them
milks a doe, squirrels are sporting round him ; an-
other sits and reads ; and a third looks down into
the valle;, where the remains of the mighty are
■unildering away. There is a tradition that among

M XA&LT ITALIAN PATNTlBft,

the ptsrsonagoB in these pictuies aie manj portA^ei
of the artist's contemporariee.

The second representation is the Last Jadgmenc
^bove, in the centre, Christ and the Virgin are
throned in separate glories. He turns to the l^i,
towards the condemned, while he onoovera the
wound in his side, and raises his right arm witn a
menacing gesture, his countenance full of majestie
wrath. The Virgin, on the right of her Son, is the
picture of heavenly mercy ; and, as if terrified at
the words of eternal condemnation, she turns away.
On either side are ranged the prophets of the Old
Testament, the Apostles and other saints — severe,
solemn, dignified figures. Angels, holding the in-
struments of the Passion, hover over Christ and
the Virgin ; under them is a group of archangels.
The archangel Michael stands in the midst, holding
a scroll in each hand ; immediately before him an-
other archangel, supposed to represent Raphael, th«
guardian angel of humanity, cowers dovni, shudder-
ing, while two others sound the awful trumpets of
doom. Lower down is the earth, where men are
seen rising from their graves ; armed angels direct
them to the right and lefl. Here is seen King Sol-
omon, who, whilst he rises, seems doubtful to which
fide he should turn ; here a hypocritical monk,
whom an angel draws back by the hair from the
host of the blessed ; and there a youth in a gay
and rich costume, whom another angel leads awaj
to Paradise. There is wonderful and even terriblt

OIOTK).

57

powtt ]f expreeBion in Home of the beads ; and It it
Hid that amoug them are man; portraits uf oon-
tampuiarieB, but unfortanately no cireutustantial
traditionB oa to particular figuree bave readied ub.
The attitudes of Christ and the Virgin were ufter-
w&rds borrowed hy Michael Angeli), in hia cq1»-
brated Last Judguent; but, notwitliHtaniling the
pBrfection of bis forms, he Htands for below the
dignified grandeur of the old master. Later piunt-
Ria have also borrowed from his arrangement of the
patriarchs and apostlea — partioularlj ITra fiarto-
lomeo and Kaphael.

The third repreeentation, direutly succeeding the
forgoing, ia Hell. It is said to hare been executed
from a design of Andrea, by his brother Bernardo.
It ia altogether inferior to the preceding repreeant-
ations in execution, and even in the composition.
Here, the imagination of the painter, unrestrained
bf an; juat rules of tiiste, d^enerab'B into the
monstrous and disgusting, and even thi groteeque
and ludicrous, liell is here repreeented ua a groat
lockj caldron, divided into four compartmenia ris-
ijg one above the other. In the midst aits Satan,
ft fearful armed giant — himself a Gerj furnace, onl
of wboee body flames arise in difiereut places, in
irtuah sinners are consumed or crushed. In other
|arts, the condemned are aeeTi spitted like fowla,
ftnd roasted and basted by demons, with other suou
•rtrocioufl fancies, too horrible and aickening fm
iMcriptiou. The lower part of the picture wai

^8 BARLT ITALIAN PAINTEB8.

baolj painted over and altered aooording to th«
taste of the day, in the sixteenth century ; certainly
not for the better.*

Andrea Obcagna is supposed to have painted
cneee frescoes about 1335, and he died about 1370.

Simone Martini, usually called Simonb Memhi,
was a painter of Sienna, of whom very few works
remain ; but the friendship of Petrarch has ren-
dered his name illustrious. Simone Memmi was
employed at Ayignon, when it was the seat of the
popes (about 1340), and there he painted the por-
trait of Laura, and presented it to Petrarch, who
rewarded him with two Sonnets — and immortality.
Simone also painted a &mous picture on the wall
of the Spanish chapel in the church of Santa Maria
Novella, which may still be seen there. It repre-
sents the church militant and triumphant — with
a great number of figures, among which are the
portraits of Cimabue, Petrarch, and Laura. He
also painted in the Campo Santo, and his pictures
there are among the finest in expression and in
grouping. He died about 1345. There is a picture
«n the Louvre, at Paris, No. 1115, attributed to
him. It represents the Virgin crowned in Heaven
amid a chorus of angels, a subject frequently treated
by Giotto and his scholars.

Pietro Lorenzetti painted in the Campo Santo
the Hermits in the Wilderness. They are repre-

* The foregoing aocoant of the paintings of Andrea Oroagoa ll
lAkeo, with alterations, from Kugler's ^^Handboch.*'

»

MDted as dwelling in cuveB and chapok, upon rocki
and m>untaina ; soma studying, othera moditating,
others tempted lij demons in various horrible or
flUuiing forms, for such were the diaeoeed foociw
which haunted a. BolitciTj and unnatural existence.
Ab the laws of perspective were then unknown, the
various groups of hermits and their dwellings urs
repreeented one above another, and all n{ tlie same
aiie, muoh like tlie figures on a china pliite.

Antonio Yeneziano also paints in the Compo
Santo, about 138T, and showed himself superiot
to all who had preceded him in feeling and grace,
though inferior to Andrea Orcagna in sublimity.
A eertain Spinelto of Arezzu tvua next employed,
about 1380. He puinted the story of St. Ephesus.
Spinello seems to have been a man of genius, bat
of most unregulated mind. Vasari tells a story of
liim which showe at once the vehemence of hia ItiQcj
and his morbid brain. He painted a picture of the
Fallen Angela, in which he liad labored to render
the figure of Satan as terrible, as deformed, as re
voltiog, OS possible. The image, as he worked upon
it, became fixed in his fancy, and haunted him in
sleep. He dreamed that the Prince ofHell appeared
before him under the horrible form in which he hod
arrayed him, and demanded why he should be thus
treated, and by what authority the painter hod
represonted him so abominably hideous. Spinello
awoke in terror, Soon afterwards he became di»
Iraoted, and so died, about the ye»r 1400.

00 SABLT ITALIAN PAIMTEB8.

But the great painter of this time, the third at
Lttded to above, was Taddeo Gaddi, the fEiYoriti
pupil of Giotto, and his godson. His pictures art
considered the most important works of the four-
teenth century. They resemble the manner of
Giotto in the feeling for truth, nature, and sim-
plicity ; but we find in them improved execution,
with even more beauty and largeness and graudeof
of style. His pictures are numerous ; several are
in the Academy at Florence, and the Museum at
Berlin ; none, that we know of, in England. In
Ottley^s engravings of the early Italian school are
three grand seated figures of the Fathers of the
Church, from Taddeo 's most famous picture, th«
fresco in the Spanish chapel at Florence, usually
entitled the Arts and Sciences. Between Taddeo
Gaddi and Simone Memmi there existed an ardent
friendship and a mutual admiration, which did
honor to both. All that Taddeo painted in the
Gampo Santo is destroyed. At Paris, in the
Louvre, are four small pictures attributed to him ;
and at Berlin four others larger, more important,
and more authentic. Another of Giotto's most
&mou8 followers was Tommaso di Stefano, called
Giottino, or <* the little Giotto," from the succesB
with which he emulated his master.

Towards the close of this century, the decoration
of the Campo Santo was interrupted by the politi-
eal misfortunes and internal dissensions which dis*
tracted the city of Pisa, and were not resumed fof

OIOTTO.

61

I

Bearlf a handred jearB. Tue paintings ia the
ehuroh of Aseisi were carried on by Giattino and
by Giovanai di Melano, but were uIbq interruptei'
towards Cha cloaa of tliia century.

Wo huTB mentioned hera but a few of the moBi
prominent nam^ among the multitude of painters
who flourished from 1300 to 1400. Before we enter
on a new centurj, we will take a general view of tha
progreeB of the art itself, and the purpoeee to whieh
it WBfl upplled.

The progress made in painting was chiefly by
carrying out the principles of Giotto in expreasion
and in imitation. Taddeo Gaddi and Simone ex-
oalled in the flrst ; the imitation of form and of
natural objects was eo Improved by Stefano Fioren-
tino, that be was styled by his con temporaries II
Soma delta Natura, "the ape of Nature." Giot^
tino, tlie eon of this Stefano, and others, improved
in color, in softness of execution, and in the means
tnd mechanism of the art ; but oil-painting wot
not yet invented, and Unear perspective was un-
known. Engraving on copper, cutting in wood,
%ai printing, were the inventions of the ne;(t cen-
tary. Portraits were seldom painted, and tlien
only rf vary distinguished persons, introduced into
larga compositions. The Imitation of natural acen-
ery, that is, landsa^epainling, as a branob of art,
DOW such a familiar source of pleasure, was iis yet
anthought of. Whan landscape was introduced
.into pictures as a background, or accessory, I', was

&i EAULI ITAUA!> FAINTEKS.

merely tu indicate the scene of the e(«rj. A ro«k
repreBonted a desert ; aoiue formal t^ee^, very likt
bruums Bet uq end, indicated u wood; a bluish
•pace, Bometimee with fi&hee in it, nijnified a, river
or a. sea. Yet in the midst of this ignoranc«, Ihil
imperfect execution, and limited 'ange of power.
i>ow exquisitely beautiful are soma of the remniul
of this eorlj time ! affording in their simple, geo>
uinB gnics, iind loftj, earuost, and devout feelirig,
axamplee of aicelleDce which our modem paintera
are h^inning to feel and to uaderetond, and which
the great Raphael himself did not disdain to etudj.
uid OTon to copj.

Ab yet the purposes to which painting naa ap-
plied were almost wholly of a religious character.
No Boonar was a church erected, than tlie wallj
were covered with reprcflentationa of sacred sub-
jecta, either &am scriptural history or the legend!
of saints. Devout individuals or fkmiliea built and
consecrated chapels; and then, at great coat, em-
ployed painters either to decorate the walla or ta
paint pictures for the altars ; the Madonna and
Child, or the Crucifixion, were the favorite eubjecta
— the donor of the picture or founder of the chapd
being otlen represented on hia knees in a comer of
tliB picture, and aomctimeB (as more expreesive of
humility) of most diminutive size, out of all propor
tion to the otlior Ggucea. The doors of the sacria
ties, and of tEie presses in which the prieata' veek
mente were keot, wore ojlon covered with amoL

GIOTTO. 63

pic1\«/e8 of scriptaral subjects ; as were also the
chests in which were deposited the utensils for the
Holy Sacrament. Almost all the small movable
pictures of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries
which have come down to us are either the altar-
pieces of ohapels and oratories, or have been cat
from the panels of doors, from the covers of ohesti,
Of othor pieces of ecclesiastical furniture.

LORENZO GHIBERTI.

THE OATBS OF SAN GIOYAMNI.

We are now to enter on a view of the progren
of painting in the fifteenth century — a period per-
haps the most remarkable in the whole history of
mankind ; distinguished by the most extraordinary
mental activity, by rapid improyement in the arti
of life, by the first steady advance in philosophica;
inquiry, by the restoration of classical learning
and by two great events, of which tiie results 11^
almost beyond the reach of calculation — the inven
tion of the art of printing, and the discovery o!
America.

The progressive impulse which characterized thi»
memorable period was felt not less in the fine arts.
In painting, the adoption of oils in the mixing of
colors, instead of the aqueous and glutinous vehi-
cles formerly used for the purpose, led to some
most important results. But long before the gene-
ral adoption of this and other improvements in the
materials employed, there had been a strong impulse
given to the mental development of art, of which
we have to say a few words before we come to
treat further of the history and efforts of individual

minds

(64)

r

LOKENZO OmSEKTl.

63

\

Dining tha fouiteentli centur; we Hod all lta\y
filled with tbescholara and imitators of Giutto. But
in the fifteenth there was a manifeHt striving after
originSility of style ; a branching off into purticulor
■ohook, dietingnisbed b; the predominance of some
paiticuloj' characteristic in the mode of treatment :
ae eipioesion, form, color, tha tendency to tho
merely imitutive, or tlie aspiration towards the
spiritual and ideal. At thie time we begin to hoar
of the Neapolitan, Umbrian, Bolognrae, Venetian,
and Paduan schools, as distinctly characterized ;
but from 1400 to 1450 wa still find the Tuscan
schools in advanoa of all the test in power, inten-
tion, fertility, and in the applii^atiiin of kriowledgo
and mechanical means ta a given end ; and, as in
the thirteenth century we traced the new influence
given to modem art by Giotto back to the sculptor
Nicola Pisano, so in the Gfteenth century we find
the influence of another sculptor, Lorenzo Ghiberti,
prodacing an effect on hia contemporaries, more
especially his fellow-citizenB, which, by developing
and perfecting the principles of imitation on which
Giotto hod worked, stamped that peculiar charac-
ter on Florentine art which distinguished it all
through the century of which we have now to
speak, and the beginning of the next.

For these reasons, the atory of Ghiberti, and the
casting of the famous gatos of San Giovanni, may
be considered as an epoch in tlia history of paint-
ing. We shall find, as we proceed, almost BTerf

60

ElBLT ITALtAN PAINTEBS.

great name, and every impottant adv-ince in art.
oonnected with it directlj or iodirecti; ; while ths
compotition irhJch is about to take place am[>ng
our own ortiata, with a view to the deoortLtion of
tlie houses of Parliament, londs, at the preeent mo-
mwit, a particular interest and applicatioa to thif
beautiful anecdote.

Florence, at the period of which we apeak, waa
at the head of uU the states of Italy, and at the
height of its prosperity. The gOTemmant waa
MBentially democratic in spint and form ; every
class and interest in the state — the aristocracy, the
military, merchants, tradaamen, and mechanics —
bad each a due share of power, and served to
balance each other. The famUy of the Medici , who
a century later seized on the sovereignty, vein at
this time only among the most distiaguiahed oitU
tens, and members of a groat mercantile houae, at
the head of which was Giovanni, the father of
Coemo de' Medici. The trades were divided into
guilds or companies, called Akti, which were Te|v
renented in the goTemmont by twen^-four Coi»-
SOLi, or consuls. It was these consuls of the guiltl
of merchants who, in th*^ year 1401, undertook to
Btoct a second gate or door of bronze to the Bap-
tistery of St. John, which sbonld form a, pendant to
the first, execnted in the preceding century (1330),
by Andrea Pieano, from the designs of Giotto, and
npreeenting in liob soulpture the TatiouB ovanta of

I^RENZO OHtBEItTI.

67

I

fhelife ofSt, John the Baptist.* To equal oteur-
paaa thia beautiful gate, which had been for half a
century the admiration of all Italj, wnB the abject
propoeed, and no expeose was to be spared in Ita
ftttaimnent.

The Si/noria, or members of the chief goyem-
msnt, acting in conjunction mth tba Consoli, made
known their munilicent resolve through all Italj,
and, in consequence, not onlj the best artieta of
Florence, but many from other citiw, particularly
Sien& and Bologna, aHEembled on this occasion.
From among a great number, aeven were eeleoted
by the Conioli as worthy to compete for the work,
upon terms not merely just, but munificent. Each
competitor receired, beeidea hie expenses, a fair in-
demnity for his labor for one year. The subject
proposed was the Sacrifice of Isaac, and at the end
of the year each artist was required to give in a
design , executed in bronze, of the same size as one
of the compartineuts of the old gate, that is, about
two feet square.

There were thirty-four judges, principally artists,
some nativea of Florence, others strangers. Eaoh
waa obliged to give his vote in public, and to state

[maanUd bf ■ iime. On three of Ibe slilel

((8 BARLT ITALIAN PADITBB8.

at the same time the reasons bj which his Tote waf
iustified. The names of the seven competitors, as
given by Vasari, were Jacopo della Quercia, of
Siena ; Nicolo d'Arezzo, his pupil ; Simon da
Golle, celebrated already for his fine workmanship
in bronze, from which he was sumamed Simon dei
Bronzi ; Francesco di Yaldambrina ; Filippo Bm-
nelleschi ; Donato, better known as Donatello ; and
Lorenzo Ghiberti.

Lorenzo was at this time about twenty-three
He was the son of a Florentine named Clone, and
of a family which had attained to some distinction
in Florence. The mother of Lorenzo, left a widow
at an early age, married a worthy man named Bax^
toluccio, known for his skill as a goldsmith. Tht
goldsmiths of those days were not merely artisans^
but artists in the high sense of the word ; they
generally wrought their own designs, consisting of
figures and subjects firom sacred or classical story
exquisitely chased in relief, or engraved or enam-
elled on the shrines or chalices used in the church
service ; or vases, dishes, sword-hilts, and oth«r
implements.

The arts of drawing and modelling, then essen-
tial to a goldsmith, as well as practical skill in
chiselling, and founding and casting metals, were
taught to the young Lorenzo by his father-in-law •
aQd his progress was so rapid, that at the age of
nineteen or twenty he had already secured to him*
■elf the patronage of the Prince Pandolfo Mala^

lOBSSZa GIltBKKTI. QU

testa, Luid of Pesaro, and wn.a empUi^od io tlie dec-
STatijn of hifl palace, wLen Barloluccio sent him
notice of tha tormH of the compotition fur tlic axe-
eutiOQ of the gates of San Giuvanni. Lorenzo ba-
mediatelj hastened to preaetit himEelf as one of the
BompotitorB, and, on gmag evidanee of his acquired
akill, he -wae accepted among the elected eereu
They had each their workehop and furnace apart,
ftnd it IB related that most of them jealously kept
their designs Heciel from the rest. But Lorenzo,
pho had all the inodeet self-assurance of oonBctoua
|,4niu8, did not ; on the contraiy, he listened grate-
fally to any Buggestioa or ociticism which was
offered, admitting his friends and distingujBhed
ctrangera to bis atelier while his work was going
forward. To this candor he added a persevering
uourage ; for when, after incrodihle labor, he had
L.bompleted bis models, and made his preparations
■f.r castiog, some &aw or accident in the process
rrWiged him to begin all over again, he supplied
t'lis loesof time by the most unremitting labor, and
al the end of the year he was not found behind hifl
Otjmpetitors. When the seven pieces were exhibited
together in public, it was adjudged that the work
of Querela was wanting in delicacy and finish ;
that that of Voldambrina was confused in com-
pontion ; that of Simon da Oolle well cast, but ill
drawn; thatofNicolo d'Arezio heavy and ill-pro-
portioned in the figures, though well composed : in
■bort, but three amoog the nombor united the vari

70 KAALT ITALIAN PAINTStS.

BUS merita of oompoaitiun, design, ani delicocj ol
workmanahip, and were at once preferred before Uw
lost. These three were the work of Branelleschi,
thon in hla twen^-fifth ye&r ; Doaatello, thou
About eighteen ; and Loroiuo Gbiberti, not qoito
tireatj-tliree. The su&agM Beamed divided; but
aAer a abort pause, and the exchange of a few
whispered words, Bruuelteeebi and DoDatalla viih-
diaw, geooTousl; agreeing and pioclaimiDg aloud
that Lareiua had excelled them all, that to bun
alone belonged the prize ; and this judgment, as
honorable to themselree aa to their riral, was coo-
firmed amid the acclamations of the assembly.

The citizens of Florence were probably not ISH
deHirouB than we should bo in oui daj to behold
the completion of a work begun with so much eo-
lemnitj. But the great artist who had undertaken
it waa not hurried into caraleaanoxs bj their im~
patience or his own ; nor did he contract to finish
it, like a blacksmith's job, in a given time. He set
about it with all due graritj and consideration,
jet, OB he deBcriboa his own feelings, in his own
words, eun grandiishna diUgenxa t ynmiJhtitiM
mnore, " with in&nita diligence and inGnite lure."
He began his designs and models in 1402, and in
twentj-two jears from that time, that la, in 14^,
the gate was finished and erected in its place. Aa
in the firet gate Audiea Piaano bad chosen foi hia
theme the life of John the Baptist, the preeursor
vf the Saviour, and the patron saint of the Ba|>'

LOBEMZO aHraEHTI.

71

I'

kisUrj, Lorenzo continued the hlstiirj of the R«-
domptiuD in a eories of subjeotH, from the Annunci-
ation to the Deaceut of the Holj Ohoat. Theae he
tepreseat^ in twenty punela or oouipurtmeiiU,
tea oa each of the folding-doora ; and below these
Bight othore, containing the fiill-lengtli eOagies of
Ebe four evangelistB and the four doctors of tha
Latin ohurch — grand, majestia figures ; and all
around a border of rich omaweiitfl — fruit, and foli-
ago, and heads of the propheta and the aibjls inter-
mingled, wonilrouH for the beauty of the design and
exoeUence of the wurkmanehip. The whole was
oast in bronze, and weighed thirtj-four thouBond
pounds of metal.

Such waB the glory which this great work con-
ferred not only on Lorenzo himself, but the whole
city of Florence, that ho was regarded as a public
benefactor, nnd shortly afterwards the same com-
pany confided to him the execution of the third
gate of the same edifice. The gate of Andrea Pi-
eano, tbrmerly the principal entrance, was removed
to the side, and LoretLJO was desired to construct a
central gate which was to Hurpass the two lateral
ones in haauty and richnesa. He chose this time
the hiatary of the Old Testament, the Bubjects being
■elected by Leonardo Bruni d'AroMO, ohuncellor
of the republic, and represented by Ghiberti in
ten compartments, each two and a half feet square,
D^inning with the Creation, and ending with th«
Ueeting of Solouion and the Queen of Shcha ; and

f 2 BABLT ITALIAN PAINTEB8.

he enclosed the whole in an elaborate border or
frame, composed of intermingled fruits and foliage,
and full-length figures of the heroes and prophets
of the Old Testament, standing in niches, to the
number of twenty-four, each about fourteen inches
high^ wonderful for their various and appropriate
character, for correct, animated design, and deli-
cacy of workmanship. This gate, of the same
material and weight as the former, was commenced
in 1428 and finished about 1444.*

It is especially worthy of remark that the only
6iult of these otherwise yau/^/e5^ works was precisely
that character of style which rendered them so in-
fluential as a school of imitation and emulation for
painters. The subjects are in sculpture, in relief
and cast in the hardest, severest, darkest, and most
inflexible of all manageable materials — in bronze.
Tet they are treated throughout much more in ac-
cordance with the principles of painting than with
those of sculpture. We have here groups of numer^
ous figures, near or receding from the eye in just
gradations of size and relief, according to the rules
of perspective ; diflerent actions of the same story
represented on diflerent planes ; buildings of elabo-
rate architecture ; landscape, trees, and animals ;
in short, a dramatic and scenic style of conception

* Aathorities differ as to dates. Those dted above are firom the
■fttet to the last Florence edit, of Yasari (1838). Set also Bamolir.
i*ltalieiiische Forschongen,** yoL iL ) and Cioognara, "StorUt dfllt
lenltora Modema."

r

LORENZO GUIBEBTI. 73

taxi efibct wholly opposed to the Hevere simplicity
uf classical tjculptiue. Ghiberti'a genius, nutwitb-
■tanding the inflexible mitterial in wliioli he on-
bodied bis conoeptions, was in ita nataial bent pic-
torial rather than sculptural ; and each panel (.f
his beautiful galea is, in fact, a picture iu raliaf,
and muat be considered and judged us such. Be-
arding them in thie point of view, and cot subject*
ing them to thoae rules of criticiem which apply ta
sculpture, we sbaU be able to uppreciute the aaton-
ishing fertility of inyention exhibited in thavariouB
designs ; the felicity aud clearness with which every
itoiy Ih told ; the grace imd naivetd of some of the
figuree, the simple grandeur of others ; the luxuri-
(tnt fiknoy displajod in the omnmentfi, and the per-
fection with which the whole is executed; — and to
echo the enargstic praise of Michael Acgolo, who
pronounced these gates " worthy to be the Gales of
Paradise ! ' '

Complete seta of coats from these celebrated com-
positions are not commonly met with, but they an
to he found in most of the collectioas and acada
nieB on the continent. Sing Louia Philippe haa
manificantly preaented a set to our government
School of Design, and they are now placed at the
tipper end of the third room, and cemented together
with the Biuroundiog frieze, so aa to give a perfect
idea of the arrangement in the original gates.
Among the casts and models in the School of Deeign
at Somerset Uouae ia an exquisite littla bosao-rilievOi

14 BAKLT ZEAUAX

wpwiiiting Uw TrinMpli of AiMdoA, 00 potfect, so
pure, m> r\tmin\ in nitr, tins U siglit euly bt
lifiakfn fior & fcagamt oi ihm finert Gre^ acolp*
tore.* Then an the onlf yjiwiii of Ghiberti*!
■kill to whidi the writor eui reftr as icuiiihle in
thiaeoontrr.

EngimTed mitliw of the aabjeete on the Uma
gates were paUished at Floranee in 1821, hj G. P.
l^sinio.f There is also a laige sat oi engrmYings
from the ten aabjectson the principal gate, exeeated
in a good bold stjle by Thomas Batch, and pab-
lifibed bj him at Floranee in 1771. %

Lorenzo Ghiberti died about the year 1455, at
the age of serentj-eeren. His former oompetitorB,
Bnmelleachi and Donatdlo, remained his friends
through life, and haye left behind them names not
less celebrated, the one as an architect, the other
as a sculptor.

This is the history of those fiunous gates,

" So muTelloasly wroaght,
That they might serre to be the gates of Heareo !*

• This cMi (whidi fanned part of the ocXktIOoa In the time of Mr.
Pjoe, the late director) vaa not to be Crand vlien the writer of ttiii
note Tiflited the School of IXesign fai 1845. It was deeigned to oraa-
ment a pedestal for an antique statae of Baochoa.

« **Iie tre Porte del Battistero di San CHovanni di FIrenie, Inoifle
ed iUnstrate.**

I The bronze doors of the church De la Madeleine, at Paris, wen
executed, a few years ago, in imitation oi the Gates of GHiiberti, by
If. Henri de Triqueti, a young sculptor of singular merit acd genlna
The labjects are the Ten Commandments,

It IB eaailj conceiTabla that, during the Gir^
yeoM which Ij^irenzo Ghiberti dsToUd to hia great
worl:, and olhera on which ha was employed at in-
tervals, the aBsistonce ho required in completiog his
own deeigns, in drawiog, modelling, aisting, pol-
isluDg, should have formed round him n sch>xil of
7oang atlisU whu worked and studied under his
Bje. The kind of work on which thay were em-
ployed gave these young men great superiority in
the knowledge of thehoman furiD,and in effeuts of
relief, light and ahade, dbc. The application of the
HaieDaea of anatomy, mathematica, and geometry, to
the arta of design, began to be mure fully uuder-
Btood. This early school of painters waa favorably
distinguished above the later schools of Italy by a
generouH feeling of mutual aid, emulation, and ad-
miration, among the youthful students, far remuved
from thedeteatuble jealoueiee, theEtabbings, poisun-
ings, and conspiracies, whiuh we read of in the
eeventeenth century. Among those who irequented
the atelier of Lorenso were Paolo Uccello, the first
who applied geometry to the study of perepective ;
hs Attached himself to this pursuit with such un-
wearied assiduity, that it had nearly turned his
(75)

Y6 EABLT ITALIAN PAINTERS.

brain, and it was for his use and that of Brunei-
leschi that Manetti, one of the earliest Greek
scholars and mathematicians in modem Europe,
translated the " Elements of Euclid ; " Maso Fin^
guerra, who invented the art of engraving en
copper ; Pollajuolo, the first painter who studied
anatomy by dissection, and who became the in-
structor of Michael Angelo ; and Masolino, who had
been educated under Stamina, the best colorist of
that time.

There was also a young boy, scarcely in his teens,
who learned to draw and model by studying the
works of Ghiberti, and who, though not corosidered
as his disciple, after a while left all the regular
pupils far behind him. He had come from a little
village about eighteen miles from Florence, called
San Giovanm, and of his parentage and early years
little is recorded, and that little doubtful. His
name was properly Tommaso Guido, or, from the
place of his biith, Maso di San Giovanni ; but from
his abstracted air, his utter indifference to the usual
sports and pursuits of boyhood, his negligent dress
and manners, his companions called him Masaccio,
which might be translated u^ly or slovenly Tom ,
and l^j this reproachful nickname one of the mosi
illustrious of painters is now known throughout the
world and to all succeeding generations. Masaccic
was one of those rare and remarkable men whose
vocation is determined beyond recall almost horn

MABACcro. 77

Infonof. Ha made bia first etssaya aa a, cbild in hit
native Tillage ; and in tlie houeo in which ho wa*
bom they long preserved the effigy of an old woman
Spinning, which he had painted when a mere bo;
on the wall of tiis chamber, aetoniahing for its life-
like truth. Coming to Florence when about thir-
teen, he studied (according to Vasari) undar Mas*-
lino, who was then employed on the freiK:oi.« of the
chapel of the Brancacci family, in the chnrch of the
Carmeiitea. Mafiolino died eoon after, leaving hii
vork unfinished; but Masaccio still continued hia
Btndiea, ncquiring the principles of design under
Ghiberli and Donatello, and the art of perspeetive
under Bmnelleechi. The paaeionate energy, and
fcrgetfulnosa of all the common intoresta and pleaa-
ureB of life, with which he pursued his fuvorite art,
obtained him, at an early age, the notice of Cosmo
de' Medici. Then intervened the civil troubles of
the republia. Cosmo was baniehed ; and Masoccia
left Florence to pursue his studies at Borne with
the Bome ardor, and with all the advantages
afforded by the remoias of ancient art collected

While at Rome, Maaaocio painted in the church
of San Olemente a Oruoifixion, and some scenes
&oni the life of St. Catherine of Alexandria ; but,
unhappllj, these have been so coarsely painted
met, that every vestige of Mosaocio'a hand has dis-
appeared, — only the composition nuaioH; and

78 EA&LT ITAUAH PAIHTKB8.

from the engraTings which oxiBt some idea ma/ da
fonned of their beaaty and BimpUcity.*

Cosmo de' Medici was recalled from baniehmenl
in 1433 ; and soon afterwards, piobaUy through
his patronage and influence, the completion of the
chapel in the church of the Carmine, left onfinislied
by Masolino, was intrusted to Masaocio.

This chapel is on the right hand as jou enter tha
church. It is in the form of a paraUdogram, and
three sides are covered with the frescoes, divided
into twelve compartmoits, of which four are large
and oblong, and the rest narrow and upright. AD
represent scenes from the life of St. Peter, except
two, which are immediately on each side as yon
enter — the Fall, and the Expulsion of Adam and
Eve from Paradise. Of the twelve compartments,
two had been painted by Masolino previous to 1415 :
the Preaching of St. Peter, one of the small com-
partments, and the St. Peter and St. John healing
the Cripple, one of the largest. In this fresco are
introduced two beautiful youths, or pages, in the
dress of the patricians of Florence. Nothing can
be more unaffectedly elegant. They would make
us r^et that the death of Masolino left another
to complete his undertaking, had not that other
been Masaocio

* In Ottley'8 " Early Italian School '* there is an eognTing of 81
Catherine disputing with the Heathen PhUoeophen. In Bodnf
Me others. Both these works may be oonsalted in the BrMA
Ifiswuni

KiB&coia, 79

Szof the compartments, two large and four niiAll
MMi. Here executed hy Maeaccio. Tlioeo rspreseui
the Tribute Mods; ; St. Peter raising n. Yuuth to
Life ; Pet«r baptizing the ConTerta ; Peter and Jobu
healing the Sick und Lame : the some Apoetlee dis-
tributing Alms ; and the Eipulaion of Adam ^nd
Ere from Paradiee.

The eceoe represented va one of the compartments
is one of the incidents in the apocryphal Historj of
the ApoBtlea. Simon the Magician cballenged Peter
and P&ul to restore to life a dead youth, mho iasaid
to have been a kinsman or nephew of the Roman
emperor. The eorcerer fails, of course. The Apos-
tles resDscitate the youth, nho kneels before tliem.
The skull and bones near him represent the pre-
vious ttata of death. A crowd of spectators stand
around beholding the miracle. All tbe Hgures are
half the size of life, and quite wonderful for the
troth of e»pro8sion, the yariety of character, the
(imple dignity of the forms and attitudes. Maaao-
eio died while at work on this grand picture, and
the central group was ptdnted some years later by
Filippino Lippi. The figure of tbe youth in the
centre is traditionally said to be that of the paintef
Qranacci, then a boy. Among the figures standing
round are several contemporary portraits : Piero
Ooicciardini, father of the great historian ; Luigi
Pulci, the poet, author of the "Morgante Ifag-
ipore ; " Pollajuolo, tlte painter, Michael Angelo'a
BUatei, and others.

80 EABLT ITALIAN PAINTSB8.

The portrait of Masaccio nsaallj given is fir > a
the head introduced into the fresco of the two
Apostles before Nero — the finest of all, and the
chef-d^oeuyre of the painter. It appears that the
grand figure of St. Paul standing before the Prison
of St. Peter, which Raphael transferred with little
alteration into his Cartoon of St. Paul preaching
at Athens, is now attributed to Filippino Lippi.*
The four remaining compartments were added many
years later (about 1470), by the same Filippino
lippi, who seems to have been inspired by the
greatness of his predecessors.

But to return to Masaccio. In considering hia
works, their superiority over all that painting had
till then achieved or attempted is such, and so sur-
prising, that there seems a kind of break in the
progression of the art — as if Masaccio had over
leaped suddenly the limits which his predecessor!
had found impassable ; but Ghiberti and his dates
explain the seeming wonder. The chief excellences
of Masaccio were those which he had attained, or
at least conceived, in his early studies in modelling.
He had learned from Ghiberti not merely the knowl-
edge of form, but the effects of light and shade im
giving relief and roundness to his figures, which, in

*See Mr. £astlake*8 notes to Eugler^s ** Handbach.** "bcnne
writers on art seem to have attributed all these frescoes indlscrimt*
nately to Masaocio j others have considered only the best portionf
to be his ; the accuracy of (German investigation has perhaps fiDAl)y
•sttled the distribution as above." (P. 108.)

oamjariicin to those of his predeceaaors, eeemed M
Start from the caaTuB. He was tlie Erat nliu sua-
cesBfullj furcBliortonod the extroniitiea. In inoat of
the older pictaroB tba flgurca appeared to stand on
(he points of their toes (as in the Angel of Orcag-
na) ; the foreshortening of the foot, though often
attempted with more or lees succeES, soomed to pK^
Bent insunnountiible difficulties. MoBaccio added a
preciBion in the drawing of the naked Hgure, and a
Bot^eas nnd bormonj in coloring the flesh, never
attained before bis time, nor since Burpassed till the
days of Raphael and Titian. He excelled also in
the expression and imitation of natural actions and
feelings. In the fresco of St. Peter baptizing the
Converts there is a jouth \cho bn^ just thioivn off
his garment, and stands in the attitude of une shiv-
ering with sudden cold. " This figure," sajs Lanzi,
"formed an epoch in art." Add the animation
and varietur of ubaracter in hie heads — so that it
was said of him that he painted souls as well as
bodies — and bis free-flowing draperies, quite dif-
Terent from the longitudinal folds of the Giotto
Mhool, yet grand and aimple, and we can form
•Dme idea of the combination of excellence with
novelt;; of style which astonished bis contempora-
ries. The Chapel of the Brancacci was for half a
eentuijwbat the Camere of Raphael in tbeVaticBD
have since become — a school for jouiig artists.
Vasari enumerates by name twenty painters who
were accustomed to study there ; among them, L«-
G

82 BABLT ITALIAN PAINTKB8

onardo da Vinci, Michael Angdo, Andrea del Sartor
Fra Bartolomeo, Perugino, Baooio Bandinelii, and
the divine Raphael himself. Nothing less than fiist-
rate genius ever jet inspired genius ; and the Chapel
of the Brancacci has been rendered as sacred and
memorable by its association with such spirits, as it
is precious and wondrous as a monument of art :

" In this Ohapel wrought
One of the Few, Nature's interpreters ;
The Few, whom Genius giyes as lights to shine—
Masaccio ; and he slumbers underneath.
Wouldst thou behold his monument ? Look round.
And know that where we stand stood oft and long,
Oft till the day was gone, Raphael himself.
He and his haughty rival * — patiently.
Humbly, to learn of those who oame before,
To steal a spark of their authentic fire.
Theirs who first broke the uniyersal gloom ->
Sons of the morning I ^ — Roffert,

It is strange that so little should be known of
Masaccio's history — that he should have passed
through life so little noted, so little thought of :
scarce any record remaining of him but his works,
and those so few, and yet so magnificent, that one
of his heads alone would have been sufficient to im«
mortalize him, and to justify the enthusiasm of hia
compeers in art. We are told that he died sud-
denly, so suddenly that there were suspicions of
poison ; and that he was buried within the prednctf

* M**'^^*! Angelo.

of the cbapel he had adorned, hut without totob )t
iiiHcciption. There ia not a more veiod question m
biogmphj than the date of Musacoio'e birth and
I death. According to Rouini, the most accurate of
^modern writers on art, he was born in 1417, ana
' died in 1443, at the age of twenty-six. Tasori aW
Bays expressly that he died before he was twenty-
Bevea ; in that case ha could not have been, na the
game writer representfi him, the pupil of Masolino,
nhu died in 1415. According to other authoritiw,
he was born in 1401, and died at the age of forty-
two. It BeemB moat probable that, if he bad lived
to such a mature age, something more would have
been known of his life and hubiis, aud ho would
have left more behind him. His death at the age
of twenty-eix renders clear and credible many facta
■nd dates oUierwise Inexplicable ; and as to hia
early attainment of Che most wonderful skill in art,
we may recollect several other examples of preco-
cious exoelieuce ; for instance, Ghiherti, already
mentioned, and JUphael, who was called to Rome
fri paint the Vatican ia hie twenty-eevonth year.
ITbe head of Masaocio, painted by himself, in the
Chapel of the Brancacci, at moat two yeara before
his death, represents him ae a young man appap
ntly about four or five and twentj.

PILIPPO LIPPI,

Born 1400, died 14fl0}

AMD

ANGELIOO DA FIESOLB,

Born 1387, died 1466.

CoNTEifPORART with Masacclo lived two paintetB,
tx)th gifted with surpassing genius, both of a reli-
gious order, being professed monks ; in all other
respects the very antipodes of each other ; and we
find the very opposite impulses given by these re-
markable men prevailing through the rest of Iho
century at Florence and elsewhere. From this
period we date the great schism in modem art,
though the seeds of this diversity of feeling and
purpose were sown in the preceding century. We
now find, on the one side, a race of painters who
cultivated with astonishing success all the mental
and mechanical aids that could be brought to bear
on their profession ; profoundly versed in the knowl-
edge of the human form, and intent on studying and
imitating the various efiects of nature in color and
ir. light and shade, without any other aspiration
than the representation of beauty for its own sake
%nd the pleasure and the triumph of difficulties over-

(84)

IJPPI AND DA FIEBOUE. 85

MDiei cn the othor bund, we find a. raeo of puinten
to wliom the cultivutionof art was a, sacred vocatioD
— theiepreaentatianof beautya meana,iiot an end;
by whom Natare in her variouH aapecta was studied
and daeplj studied, but only Cor the purpose of am-
bodjiog whatever vre can conceive or reverenco aa
highoat, holiest, purest in heaven and earth, in such
forms 08 should hest connect them with our intelli-
gence and with our sympathiea.

Tha two classes of painters who devoted theii
geniua to these very diverse aims have long heen
distinguished in German and Italian critioism as the
Naiwralisis and the Jdealists or Mystics, and these
denominations are now becoming familiarized in our
own language. During the fifteenth century we find
in the various schools of art scattered throiigb Italy
these di&rent aims more or leis apparent, sometimes
approximating, sometimes diverging into extroma,
but the distinction always apparent ; and the inSu-
once exercised by those who pursued their art with
Buch very different objects — with such very difier-
ent feelings — was of course different in its reenlt
Painting, however, during this century was still
almost wholly devoted to ecclesiastical purposes , it
deviated into the classical and secular in only two
VlacoB, Florence and Pudua.
In the convent of the Carmelites, where Masacciii
r baa painted hta &,nioua frescoes, was a young monk
■Who, instead of employing himeeif in the holy olScea
B|iase(^ whole days and hours gazing on those works

rJ

80 XAULT ITALIAN PAINTXB8.

tfid trying to imitate them. He was one whom por*
ertj had driven, as a child, to take refuge there, and
who had afterwards taken the habit from necessity
"mther than from inclination. His name was Filippo
Lippi (which may be translated Philip the son of
Philip) , but he is known in the history of art as
Fra Filippo (Friar Philip) . In him, as in Masaocio,
the bent of the genius was early decided ; nature had
made him a painter. He studied from morning to
night the models he had before him ; but, restless,
ardent, and abandoned to the pursuit of pleasure,
he at length broke from the convent and escaped to
Ancona. The rest of his life is a romance. On an
excursion to sea he was taken by the African pirates,
sold as a slave in Barbary , and remained in captivity
eighteen months. With a piece of charcoal he drew
his master's picture on a wall, and so excited his ad-
miration that he gave him his freedom, and dismissed
him with presents. Fra Filippo then returned to
Italy, and at Naples and at Rome gained so much
celebrity by the beauty of his performances, that his
crime as a runaway monk was overlooked, and, un-
der the patronage of the Medici family, he ventured
to return to Florence. There he painted a great
number of admirable pictures, and was called upon
to decorate many convents and churches in the neigh-
borhood. His life during all this time appears to
have been most scandalous, even without considera-
tion of his religious habit ; and the sums of money
be obtained by the practice of his art were squai^

r

r

I

I

LtFPI AND DA rlESOLE. tJ7

dered in profiigate pleasures. Being called upon to
paint a Madonna fur the uoarent uf St. Marguret at
Prato, he perHaaded tbe EiBterhood to allow a beau-
tiful novice, whose name was Lucretia Buti, to sit to
him for a model. In tbe end he eeduoed this girl,
and carried her off from the convent, to the great
■candal uf the cozzuDunity , and the ineipresBible grisf
and horror of her father and iamilj. Filippo was
then an old man, nearly giity ; but for his great
fame and the powerful protection of the Medici, he
would have paid dearlj for this ofTence againet mor-
als and religion. Uig friends Coemo and Lorenzo
de' Medio! obtained from the pope a diEpensation
from hia vows, to enahle him to marry Lucretia ;
but he does not aeem to have been in any haste to
avail himeelf of it ; the family of the girl, unable
to obtain any public reparation for their dishonor,
contrived to avenge it secretly, and Fra Filippo died
poisoned, at the age of siitj-nine.

This libertine monk waa undoubtedly a man of
extraordinary genius, but his talent was degraded
by his imoiorality. He adopted and carried on al]
the improvements of Mosaccio, and was the first
who invented that particular style of grandeur and
breadth in the drawing of his figures, the grouping,
aud the contrast of light and shade, afterwards car-
liod to such perfection by Andrea del Sarto. He
was one of the earliest paintew who introduced
landscape backgrounds, painted with some feeling
br the truth of nature ; but the expTesBiun he gav«

p

88 K^LT riALUN FAIVTEBS.

to hit persiiDagee, thoagh alwajB mergetic «&■
otlon inspproprittte, «nd never calm or elovfttod.
In the representation of eaorad incidents hie «aa
Botoetimes tiintastic and aometiines vulgar ; and he
wu the Gret who deaecratad auch Bubjecta bj inbo-
ducing the portrulla of women who happened ti] ba
the objects of his prafetenee at the moment. There
Bra many pictures by Fra Filjppo in the churchea
at Florenoe: two in the gallery of the Academj
there fivo in the Berlin Museum ; in Iha I/>uTra
there ia one uudoubtedlj genuine, and of great
beauty, marked by all hie cbaracteristice. It rc^
neenbi the Mudouna eCanding, and holding the
Infant Saviour in her arma ; on each side are angela
and a kneeling monk. The altitude of the Virgil,
ia grand ; the head Dommonplaee, or woree ; the
countenance of the Infant Christ heaij ; the angela,
with eriaped hair, have the faoce of street arctuoa ;
bat the adoring raonke are wonderful for the natural
dignity of their Sgurea and the fine expression in
their upturned facee, and the whole picture is most
admirably eiecut«d. It was painted for the church
of the Santo Spirito, at Iflorence, and ie a celebrated
production. The writer does not know of any pio
tuie by Fra Filippo now in England. Heleftaaon,
Flippo Lippi, called Filippino (to diatinguiah him
from hia father), who became in after yeara an ex-
eoUent pulntor, and whose frseooes in the Chap^
of the Brancacci, which emulated those of Masaccio
bave been already raentioited.

LIPPI AMD DA FIESOLB. OB

Contemporary with Fm Filippo, or rather earlier
Id point of date, lived the other painter-monk, pre-
■enting i& bia life and ciiaracter tlie stTongeet pou-
■ibla coDtraBt to the former. He was, as VaBari
talis US, one who njight have lived a very agreeable
life in the world, had he not, impelled bj a sinoers
uid fervent spirit of devutiuo, retired from it at
the age of twenty to bury himself within the walls
of a oloieter ; a man with whom the practice of a
Deuutiful art waa thenceforth a hymn of praise, and
ivery creation of hia pencil an act of piety and
Bharity, and nho, in seeliing only the glory of God,
iamed an immortal glory among men. Thia wai
Fra Giovanni Angelico da Fiasole, whoso name,
before be entered the convent, waa Guido Petri da
Uugello." lie haa since obtained, from the holi-
aees of hia life, the title ofiZ Beato, ■' the Blcesed,"
by which he is often mentioned in Italian histories
of art. He was horn in 1387, at Fieaole, a beauty
fill town situated on a hill overlooking Flotenct.
and in 1407, being then twenty, and already akillad
in the art of pELinting, particularly miniature illu-
minations of Missals and choral-books, he entered
the Dominican convent of St. Marie, at Florence,
and took the habit of the order. It is not known
exoetly under whom he studied ; but he la said to
have been (aught by Starnina, the best colorist of
that time. The restof his longlifeof sovaatyyoari
ts only one unbroken tranquil stream of placid

M KABLT ITALIAN PAINTSBS.

eontentment and pious labors. Except on one oo
casion, when called to Rome bj Pope Nicholas V.
to paint in the Vatican, he never left his conymt,
and then onlj yielded to the express command of
the pontiff. While he was at Rome the Arch
bishopric of Florence became vacant, and the pope,
■track by the virtue and learning of Angelico, and
the simplicity and sanctity of his life, offered to
install him in that dignity, one of the greatest in
the power of the papal see to bestow. Angelioc
refused it from excess of modesty, pointing out
at the same time to the notice of the pope a brother
of his convent as much more worthy of the honor,
and by his active talents more fitted for the office.
The pope listened to his recommendation ; Frate
Antonio was raised to the see, and became cele-
brated as the best Archbishop of Florence that had
been known for two centuries. Meantime Angelico
pursued his vocation in the still precincts of his
quiet monastery, and, being as assiduous as he was
devout, he painted a great number of pictures,
some in distemper and on a small scale, to which he
gave all the delicacy and finish of miniature ; and
in the churches of Florence many large frescoes
with numerous figures nearly life-size, as full of
grandeur as of beauty. He painted only sacred
subjects, and never for money. Those who wished
for any work of his hand were obliged to apply to
the prior of the convent, from whom Angelico re-
ceived with humility the order or the permission to

I

UPPI AN» DA PIESOl^. 91

necmte it, and thus the brotherhuad ^aa at oncfl
tnriched bj hiii talent and edified bj his virtue. To
Angalico the art of painting a. picture devoted to
religious purpoeea waa an act of raligioo, for which
he prepared himeelf by fasting imd prayer, implor-
ing on bended kneea the benediction of heaven on
hia worlt. He then, under the impression that ba
bad obtuiued the blessing he Bought, and glowing
with what might truly be called inapiration, took
tip hia pencil, and, mingling with his earnest and
pioua humility a singular Bpaciee of self-uplifted
enthuaiSiBm, he could narer he persuaded to alter
hia Grut draught or composition, believing that
which he had done was according to the will of
God, and could not be changed for the better by
any afterthought of hia own or suggestion from
othera. All the works left by Angelico are in hor-
moay with this gentle, devout, entbusiaatjc spirit.
They are not remarkable for tho usual marits of the
Florentine achool. They are not addressed to the
taste of connoisseurs, but to the &tCh of worship-
pers. Correct drawing of the human figure could
not ba expected irom one who regarded the aihibi-
tioQ of the undraped form as a ain. lu the learned
distribution of light and ahade, in the careful imi-
tation of nature in the detuUs, and in variety of
espreaaion, many of his con temporaries excelled
him ; but none approached him in that poetical and
religious fervor which he threw into his heads of
saints and Madonnas. Power is not tlia character

U2

£ul; rrALUK paintkbs.

istig gf Augulioo. Wlierever be iiiia bai] to oxpreM
merg; of aoCiun, or bad or angry pasBJong, he bu
gencrallj Guled. In his pbtiuea uf tbe Crauldiioii
uid tbe Stoning of St. Stephen, the execntioDsn
knd tho rabble are feeble and often ill-drawn, uid
bia fallen angela and devils ure anything but denl-
Ub ; while, on tbe other hand, the pathos of Buf<
feiing, of pitj, of divine resignation — the expres-
■ion of ecstatic faith and hope, oi serene contemplft-
tion — huTe never bean placed before us ae in hii
picturaa. In tlia beads of his joung angels, in the
purity and beatitude of his female saints, he has
nerer been excelled — nut even bj Raphael.

The principal works of Angelico ore the fresoooB
m the church of his own convent of St. Mark, at
EWonca, in the church of Santa Maria Kovella,
and at Rome in tbe chapel of NioholaB V., in the
Vatican. Uis small easel pictures ace numerous,
nod to be found in moat of the foreign collections,
though unhappily the writer can point out nous
that are acceeeible in England. There is one in the
Louvre, of surpoBsing beauty. The eulijeot is Ibe
Guronution of tbe Tirgb Mary by her Son the Re-
deemer, in the presence of saints and angels. It
rapresents a throne under a rich Gothic canopy, to
which thara is an ascBnt by nine ataps. On tha
highest kneels the Virgin, veiled, her hands crossed
on her bosom. She is clotlied in a red tunic, a blue
robe over it, and a royal mantle with a rich bordet
flowing down behind. The featuree are moat deli^

r

93

eately luvely, and the ospreseion of the fnpi: full of
humility and adoration. Chtiat, seatod on the
throDe, beads forw&Td, and is in the act of placing
the crown on her head. On eaoh aide are twelvo
angels, who are playing a heavenly concert with
guitars, tambourines, trumpets, fiola, and other
muBical inBtrumants, Lower than those, on each
iide, are forty holy personagee of the Old and Neft
Testament ; sJid at the foot of the throne kneel several
points, male and female, among them St. Catherine
with her wheel, St. Agues with her lamb, and St.
Ceailia crowned with flowers. Beneath the prin-
cipal picture there is a row of seven small onee,
fonniog a border, and representing various inci-
dents in the life of St. Bominic. The whole meas-
ures about seven and a half feet high by six feet in
width. I( is painted in distemper ; the glories
round the heads of the sacred perBonitges are in
gold, the colors are the most delicate and yivid im-
aginable, and the ample draperies have the long
folds which recaU the aohoo! of Giotto ; the gayety
and harmony of the tints, the expression of the
varioae heads, the divine rapture of the angels, with
their air of immortal youth , and the devout reverence
of the other personages, the unspeakable serenity
and beauty of the whole composition, render this
picture worthy of the celebrity it has enjoyed for
more than fonr centuries. It was painted by Frate
Angelico for the church of St. Dominic, at Fiusole
where it remained till the beginning of the present

94 XABLY ITALIAK PAI1ITB8.

oentory. How obtained it does not appeal » but it
was purchased by the French goyemment in 1812,
and exhibited for the first time in the long gallery
of the Louyre in 1815. It is now placed in the
gallery of drawings at the upper end. A yery good
set of outlines were engrayed and published at
Paris, with explanatory notes by A. W. Schlegel ;
and to those who haye no opportunity of seeing the
original these would oonyey some fiEiint idea of the
composition, and of the exquisite and benign beauty
of the angelic heads.

It is a curious circumstance that the key of the
chapel of Pope Nicholas Y., in the Vatican, in
which Angelico painted some of his most beautiful
frescoes, was for two centuries lost, and few peraons
were aware of their existence, fewer still set any
yalue on them. In 1769 those who wished to see
them were obliged to enter by a window.

Fra Gioyanni Angelico da Fiesole died at Rome,
in 1455, and is buried there in the chuxeh of Sanfti
Maria sopra Minenra.

BBNOZZO GOZZOU.

Fka Giovanni Anoelico poBseesed, among hii
othra amiable qualities, one true charactariBtii; of
a geaerous mind, the willingneaB to impart what-
ever he knew to otbere ; and, notwitbatundmg tha
letiiement in which he lived, he bad eeveral pupils.
But that which fonnad the principal charm and
merit of bis productions, the impress of individaal
mind, the profound seaCiment of piotj, was incom-
municable except to a kindred spirit. Hence it is
that ttuH influence, like the prophetic mantle, fell
on those who Imd the power lo catch it and retain
it, and is more apparent in its general results, as
«ean in the schools of Umbria and Venice, than in
any particular painter or any particular work.
Codmo Roselli, a verj distinguiabed artist of that
I time, is supposed to have studied under Angelica,
' and certainlj began bj imitating his mannar.
AClerwards he painted like Maeaccio. His best
trork, a large freeco in the chapel of St. Amhrogio,
at Florence, is engraved in Laeinio's collection
&«m the old Florentine maBters. It
Bbout 145G. A much more oelebrated name is tJ
I ofBENozzo Qozzou.

(95)

96 KABLT ITALIAN PAINTERS.

We know very little Of the life of this eztraordi
nary man ; but that little shows him to have beer
worthy of the particular love of his master, whost
favorite pupil and companion he was, and, during
the last years of Angelico's life, his assistant. Ac-
cording to Yasari, Benozzo was an excellent man,
and a good and pious Christian, but he had no vo-
cation for the cloister. No painter of the time had
such a lively sense of all the beauty and variety of
the external and material world. For him beauty
existed wherever he looked — wherever he moved
He took such delight in the practice of his art, that
he had little time for other pursuits. He succeeded
to the popularity of Angelico as a painter of sacred
subjects, into which he introduced much more oma*
ment, decorating them with landscapes, buildings,
animals, &c. It appears that he did not design the
figure more correctly than Angelico, nor equal him
in the profound feeling and celestial air of hii
heads ; but he has shown more invention and
variety in his compositions, and mingled with his
grace a certain gayety of conception, a degree of
movement and dramatic feeling, which are not seen
in the works of Angelico.

Benozzo, before the death of his master, painted
some frescoes in the cathedral at Orvieto, and in
the churches of the little town of Montefalco, near
Foligno, and also at Rome, in the church of the
Ara-celi. The former remain, but those in the
Ara-celi have long since been destroyed. All these

r

97

I

1«B in tha Bljla of his master. Aftar
the death of Angelioo, Benorao was emplojed to
paint the church at San Geminiano, a, little city on
the road from Florence to Sienna ; and here Bome
of his own peculiar characteristics were first dis-
played ; here ho painted the Death of St. Sehas-
tian, and the history of St. Augastin ; and for
E^etro de' Medici he painted a chapel in the palac«
of the Medici (now the Palazzo Bicardi, at Flor-
ence), tha HubjecC being the Adoration of the Magi,
which still exists in the Ricardi Palace, but bo
built up that it can only be yiewed by torch-light.
In all the paintings he executed at this time
(1460) and afterwarda, Bsnozzo introduced many
figures, generally tha portraits of distinguished
inhabitantB of the place, or those of his friends,
groQped OS spectators round the priocipal incident
or personage represented, haying nothing to do
with the action, but BO beautifully managed that,
&r from appearing intrusive, they rather add to
the eolaninity and the poetry of the scene, as if he
would fain represent these sacred events as belong-
ing to all times, and still, ae it were, poAsing before
our cyw. This obserfation must ba borne in mind
as genarally applicable to all sacred pictures, in
which the apparent anachronisms are not really
Bnoh, if properly considered. Benozzo carried this
and other characteristics of his own original style
still further in his greatest work, the decoration of
the Campo Santo

98 MARLT IXAUAN PAIHTUL8.

When the troublee of war, fiunine, pbigae, and
intestine divinons, which had distracted Pisa doiw
ing the first half of the fifteenth century, had snl^
aided, the citizens of that rich and active republic
resumed those works of peace which had been inter-
rupted for nearly a century, and resolved to com-
plete the painting of their far-famed cemetery, th«
Campo Santo. One whole side, the north wall, was
yet untouched. Thej intrusted the work to Benozzo
Gozzoli, who, though now old (upwards of sixty,
and worn with toil and trouble) , did not hesitate
to undertake a task which, to use Vasari's strong
•xpression, was nothing lees than <* terribilissimaj*^
and enough ** to frighten a whole legion of paint-
ers." In twenty-four compartments he represented
the whole history of the Old Testament, from Noah
down to King Solomon. The endless fertility of
fancy and invention displayed in these composi-
tions ; the pastoral beauty of some of the scenes,
the scriptural sublimity of others ; the hundreds of
figures introduced, many of them portraits of hif
own time ; the dignity and beauty of the heads ;
the exquisite grace of some of the figures, almost
equal to Raphael ; the ample draperies, the gay,
rich colors, the profusion of accessories, as build
ings, landscapes, flowers, animals, and the care and
exactness with which he has rendered the costume
of that time — render this work of Benozzo one of
the most extraordinary monuments of the fifteenth
oentury. But it would have been more than oa»

BIHO'/ZO GOZZOLl. 99

tnordimirf, tt would have been mimcu/ouj. Lad it
been executed in the space of two years, oa LBj\n
ietat«a — trusting to a popular tradition, wMel *
inoment'e reflection would have shown to he incrud-
' ible. It appears, from autlientic records Etiil exist-
inf^ in the citj of Piso, that Benono waa engaged
on this great work not les than sixteon jeara, from
14S8 to 1484.

Those 'who would form an idea of its inuncDeit;,
considered as the work of one hand, maj consult
the large set of engravings &om the Campo Santo,
published by Losiniu in 1821.

The original freacoea are still in wonderful pros-
ervation. Three out of the twenty-four are almost
entirely destroyed ; the others have peeled oiF in
wme ports, but in general the espreseion of the
features and the lucid barniony of the colors haTe
remained. Each compartment contains many inci'
dents and events artleealj grouped together. Thus
we have Hagar'e presumpUon, her castigation by
Sarah, the visit of the three angels, &c., in ono
picture. Among the most beautiful subjects may
be mentioned the Vineyard of Noah, the first which
BenozH) painted, as a trial of hie skill. On tha
1^ of this composition are two female figures — ■
one who oomcs tripping along with a basket of
grapes on her head, the other holding up her baa-
more — which are perfect models of pasto-
i lul grace and simplicity. In the Building of th(
' Tower of Eabel, a, crowd of spectators have aseem-

r triLIAH PAIHTEBS.

bledb

Titnees the work ; among them an mtro-

)' Medici, tliQ Fatbei
of bis country, and his two gmndsnns, Lorenzo
uid Giuliano, nith PoliiiOino and other perBOn
Ogss, all in the costume of thai time. In the
Marriage Feast of Jacob and Rachel he haa in-
troduced two graceful danoing figures. In th«
Recognition of Joaeph be has painted a profunon
ot rich architectural decoration — palaces, oolon-
nades, balconiee, and particoee, in the Btjie of tha
time : and in the distance we have, instead of
the Egyptian Pjriunids, a view of the Cathedral
of Pisa !

Suun after the completion of the last compart
meat, the Queen of Sheba'e visit to Sulomon (ol
which, unhappily, scarce a fragment remains), Be
norao GoiioU died, at Pisa, in hie seven tj-aigblh
jear. The grateful and admiring Pisans. amorg
whom he hod resided for sixteen years in great
honor and esteem, bad presented him, in the couise
of his work, with a vault or sepulchre just beneath
the compartment which contains the history of
Joseph ; and in this spot he lies buried, with on
inscription purporting that his best monumiiit
consists in the works around. Benotzo left on
Milj daughter, who after his death inherited tna
nodaat little dwelling which he had purchased for
himself on the Carraia di San Francesco.

Benoz7o'B principal works, being in fresco, n
main attached to the walls on which the; war*

* 4

BBNOZZd-QOZ^OU. 101

^ s ^

painted. Those onlj of the»i!)3e£rpo Santo are en-
graved. A picture in distemper pf St. Thomas
Aquinas is in the Louvre (No. 103,3}.^ and is the
game mentioned bj Yasari as havihglb^n painted
fiMT the Cathedral of Pisa.

•• «• -

.. •<

. • •

-itNDREA GASTAGNO,

Born 1408, died UTTl

LUOA SIGNORELLI,

Bom 1440, died 162L

Towards the dooe of the fifteenth centuij, ^e
find Lorenzo de' Medici, the Magnificent ^ master
of the Florentine republic, as it was still denomi-
nated, though now under the almost absolute power
of one man. The mystic and spiritual school of An-
gelico and his followers no longer found admirers in
the citj of Florence, where the study of classical
literature, and the enthusiastic admiration of the
Medici for antique art, led to the cultivation and
development of a style wholly different ; the paint
ers, instead of confining themselves to scriptural
events and characters, began at this time to take
their subjects from mythology and classical history.
Meantime, the progress made in the knowledge of
form, the use o^ colors, and all the technical appli-
ances of the art, prepared the way for the appear*
ance of those great masters who in the succeeding
century carried painting in all its departments to
the highest perfection, and have never yet been

furpassed.

(102)

I

I

CA8T4GN0 AND BIONORELU, 103

Aboiil 1460, a certain Neapolitan painter, named
Akton~eL[.o da MssaiNA, liating travelled into tba
Netberlandfl, learned there trura Jflhan t. Ejk and
liis schulart! the art of managing oil-colora. Being
bt Venice on hie return, he communicated the secret
to a Venetian painter, Domenico Venoaiano, with
whom he had formed a friendehip, and who, having
acquired coosiderable reputation, was culled tu Flui^
once to assist Andrea di Castagno in painting a
chapel in Santa Maria Novella. Andrea, who bad
been a scholar of MaHaccio, wii8 one of the moat
famous painters of the time, and a favorite of the
Uadioi family. On the occasion of the conspiracy
of the Pazzi, when the Arehhisbop of Pisa and his
confederates were hung hj the magiatratea trom the
windows of the palace, Andrea was called upon to
represent, on the walls of the Podeeti, this terrible
-"fit Bubjaet for fit band;" and ht
) well, that he obtained the surname of
Andrea degF Isnpiccati, which may bo translated
Andrea ihs hangman. He afterwards earned a yet
more Infamous designation — Andrea Ike asiossin.
Envious of the reputation which Domenico had ac-
quired by the beautf and brilliance of his colors, ho
first, by a show of the most devoted friendship, ob-
tained his secret, and then seized tba opportunity
when he accompanied Domenico one night to sere-
nade bis mistress, and stabbed him to the heart.
Ele contrived to escape suspicion , and allowed one
or two innocent persons to Buffer for hia crime ; but

101 BARLr IIALUM PAmSBfli j

OD his daath-bed, tea j'e&ra afterwards, he con&nad

hia guilt, and b&a been consigned to merited infunj.
Very kw works af this painter remain. Four ora in
tlie Berlin Museum ; tliej are much pmiscd bj laazi,
Dut, however great their merit, it is difficult to get rid
jf the aaeoeiationB of disgust and horror cunnecttd
ffith the oharaoter of the man. It is remarkable
that Dooe of his remaining picturee are painted in
}il-colorH, but all are in distemper, as if he hod feured
to avail himself of the secret acquired bj such flagi-
lious means, and the knowledge of which, though
Q< t the practice, became general before his death.

In theyearl471 SiitusIV.beeamepope. Though
bj no means endued with a taste for art, he reeolred
to emulate the Medici famil;, whose example and
patronage had dlOused the fashion, if not the feeling,
throughout all Italy; and having built that beau-
tiful chapel in the Tatintn called by his none, and
since celebrated as thoSisfine Chapel, the next thing
was to decorate it with appropriate paintings. On
one side of it was to be represented the history uf
Moses ; on the other, the history of Christ ; the old
law and the new law, the Hebrew and the Christian
jispensation, thus placed in contrast and illuetrat
mg each other. As there were no diBtinguished
painters at that time in Borne, Sixtus invited from
Florence those of the Tuscan artists who hod the
greatest reputation in their native country. The
Erst of theee was Sandro (that is, Aleasandio) BoT-
tiCJULi, remarkable for being one of the earliest

lOo

painters nha treated lajthologioaJ eubjecta on a
Ein&U acala as decuratiuos for furniture, and tbe
Sist who made drawings for the purpose of being
engraved. These, ae vr.ell as hie religious pictures,
he troatad in a ianeiful, cttpriciouB stjle. Sii of
hiB pictures are in the Museum at Berlin — one an
undraped Yeaus ; and two are in the Louvre. San-
dro was a pupil of the monk Fra Fillppo already
mentioned, and aHer his death took charge of hlg
young Bon Filippino Lippi, who excelled both hia
&ther and hia praceptor, and became one of the
greatest painters of bis time." Another painter
BDipIoyed bj Pope Sixtus was Litca Sigkorelli, of
Cortona, tbe first who not only drew the human
form with admirable correctness, but, aided hj a
degree of anatomical knowledge rare in those days,
threw such spirit and expression into the various
attitudes of his liguros, that his great work, the
frescoes of the Cathedral of Orvieto, representing
the I^iat Judgment, were studied and even imitated
by Michael Angolo, This painter was apparently
a fiivorita of Fuaeli, whose compositions frequently
remind us of the long limba and animated, but
sometimes exaggerated, action of SigDorelli.

• Be eaapitua Oa te

DOMENICO DAL GHIRLANDAJO.

Bom 1461, died 1406.

DoHENico DAL Ghirlakdajo was also employed
hi the Sistine Chapel, bat he was then joung, and
of his two pictures there one onlj remains, the
Calling of St. Peter and St. Andrew, — so inferioi
to his later productions, that we do not recognize
here the hand of him who became afterwards one
of the greatest and most memorable painters of bis
time.

Domenico Corradi, or Bigordi, was bom at Flor-
ence in 1451, and was educated by his father for
his own profession, that of a goldsmith. In this
art he acquired great skill and displayed in his
designs uncommon elegance of fe.ncy. He was the
first who invented the silver ornaments in the form
of a wreath or garland ( Ghirlanda) which became
a fashion with the Florentine women, and from
which he obtained the name of Ghirlandajo, or
GrillandajOf as it is sometimes written. At the
age of four-and- twenty he quitted the profession of
goldsmith, and became a painter. While employed
in his father's workshop he had amused himself
with taking the likenesses of all the persons he saw

(106)

eaiBLANDiJO. 107

■0 rapidly, and with bo much liTelinees and truth,
Eta to afltoniBh evory one. The esact drawing and
tnodelling of forms, tha inventiye &ncy exercised in
Us mechanical urt, und the turn fur portraiturs,
mre displajed itt all bia Bubaequent productions
These wero so many in number, so various in aub-
ieut, and so admiruble, that odj a few of them can
be noticed here. After he returned from Home hia
first work waa the painting of a chapel of the Ves-
pucci family, in the church of Ogniaaanti (All
Saints), in which be introduced, in 14S5, the por
trait of Amerigo Tespucoio the navigator, who
atWwards gave his mime to a new world.

Ghjriandajo painted u ohapel for a certain Flor-
entino oitizon, Francesco Sassetti, in the church
of the Trinitfa. Here he represented the whole life
of Francesco 'a patron saint, St. Francis, in a aoriea
of pictures, full of feeling and dramatic power. As
be waa confined to the popular histories and trsr
ditiona, which hitd been treated again and again by
wieCBaaivo painters, and in wliioh it woa necessary
to conform to certain fi:ced and prescribed rules, it
waa dilScult t^ introduce anyvariety in the concep-
tion. Tet he has done this aimply by the mere
force of oipreeslon. The moat excellant of theae
freaooes >8 the Death of St. Francis, surrounded by
the monks of hia order, in which the aged beada,
full of grief, awe, resignation, are depicted with
•ronderful akUl. At the foot of tha bier is an old
bishop chanting the litanies, with apectaclea on hii

108

KAULX ITALIAN PAIKTFOB.

oose, whiuh li the earlJeBt known represantatim of
theee implemenU, tliea recently invented. On oma
ride of the picture is tha kneeling Ggorc of Praa-
oeBCO SofiBetti, and on the other Madanim Nera, his
irife. All theaa bistoriea of St. Francis are engraved
in Ijisinio's " Earl; Florentine Musters," aa are
abu the magnificent freacoes In the choir of Santa
Maria Novella, hia greatest work. This ha undBr-
t^k for a generous and public-epirited citizen of
Florence, Giovanni Tomabuoni, who agreed to i^
pair the choir at his own coat, and, moreover, to
pay Ohitlondajo one thousand two hundred gold
ducats for painting the walla in fresco, and to add
two hundred more if be were well satiHSod with tba
performance.

Ghirlandajo devoted four jears to hia tusk. He
painted on the right-hand wall the history of St.
John the Baptist, and on the led varloua incidenta
from the life of the Virgin. One of the moat bean-
tiful represents the Birth of the Virgin. Femab
attendants, charming graceful figures, are aiding
the mother or intent on the new-bom child ; while
a lady, in the elegant costume of the Florentine
ladies of that time, and holding a handkerchief in
her hand, is seen advancing, as if to paj her visit
of congratulation. This Is the portrait of Ginevra
de' Benci, one of the loveliest women of the time.
He has introduced her again aa one of the attend-
ants in the Visit of the Virgin to St. Elwabeth. In
the other pictures he has Introduced the figures of

I

I

QaiRLAfJDAJO, 109

Lorenzo da' Mediai, Poliziaoo, Domelrb Greco,
Maraitio Ficioo, and othur celebrated perHuna (of
whom there are notiyes in Roscoa'H " Life iif Lo-
renzo de' Medici "), besidea biH onn poctmit, and
those of man; other persons of that time.

The idea of crowding these sacred and mystical
eubjecta with portraits of real persoos and Tapro.
sentations of femiliar objects maj aeem, on first
Tiew, shoclcing to the taste, ridiculous aniichro-
nismR, and deBtruotive of all solemoit; and unity of
fooling. Such, however, is not the caso, but the
reverBe. In tha first place, the sacred and ideal per
Bonages arn nerer portraits from nature, and are
Tery loftily conceiTod in point of expression and
eigniflcancs. In the seoond place, the real person-
agcB introdntred are seldom or nevar aetora, merely
attendants and spoctators in events which may be
conceired to belong to all time, and to have no
Mpecial locality ; and they have so much dignity m
their aspects, the coBtumsB are so picturesque, and
the grouping is so Ene and imaginative, that only
the coldest and most pedautiu critio could wish
them absent.

When Gbirlandajo had flnisbed this grand eeriea
of pictures, bis patron, Giovanni Tomabuoni, de-
clared himself well pleased ; but, at the same time,
expressed a wish that Ghirlandajo would be content
with the sum first stipulated, and for^ the ad-
ditional two hundred ducats. The high-minded
[>ainter, who esteemed glory and honor much moM

110 BAELT HALEAN /AINTEB8.

than riches, immediatelj withdrew his daim, bbj>
ing that he oared &r more to have satisfied his
raiplojer than for anj amount of payment.

Besides his frescoes, Ghirlandajo painted many
easel pictures in oil and in distemper. There is one
of great beauty in the Louvre^ the Visitation
(1022), about four feet in height. But the subject
he most frequently repeated was the Adoration of
the Magi. In the Florence Galleiy are two pic-
tures of this subject ; another of a circular form,
which had been painted for the Tornabuoni family,
was in the collection of Lucien Bonaparte. In the
Munich Gallery there is one picture by Ghirlan-
dajo, and in the Museum at Berlin there are six ;
one of them a beautiful portrait of a young girl of
the Tornabuoni &inily, whom he has also intro-
duced into his frescoes.

It may be said, on the whole, that the attention
of Ghirlandajo was directed less to the delineation
of form than to the expression of his heads, and the
imitation of life and nature as exhibited in feature
and countenance. He also carried the mechanical
and technical part of his art to a perfection it had
not before attained. He was the best colorist in
fresco who had yet appeared, and his colors have
stood extremely well to this day.

Another characteristic which renders Ghirlandajo
very interesting as an artist was his diligent and
progressive improvement ; every successive produc-
tion was better than the last. He was also

GHIRLA»DAJO.

11

I
I

Bic^ont worker in mosaic, which, from itfl dun
Wlitj, he used to call '■^ painting for eternity."

To Ilia rare and varioua aeeompliabnientfl aa Bk
vtiat, Ghirlund^o odilad the moat amiahle qualU
tieeaa a. man, — qualities which obtained him tha
Idto as well aa the admiration of his fallDW-citlxQna.
He was, Ea^ Vasari, " the delight of the age in
whioh lie lived." He was still in the prime of life
Hid in the foil pOBaeaaion of conacioue power, — so
that he was heard to wish they would give him the
walls all round the citj to coTer with freacoee, —
when he was s^ed with sudden itlnesa, and died,
at the age of forty-four, to the infinite grief of hia
numerous scholars, bj whom he was interred, with
every demonstration of mournful respect, in the
ohurch of Santa Maria Novella, in the year 1495.
His two brothers, Dayide and Benedetto, were alao
painters, and assisted him in the execution of his
great works; and his son, Kidolfo Ohirlandajo,
beeame afterwards an excellent artist, but he be-
longs to a later period.

Ghirlandajo formed many scholars ; among them
was the great Michael Angolo. Contemporary with
Chirlandajo lived an artist, memorable for having
aided with hie instructions both Michael Angelo and
Lionardo da Vinci, Tliis was Andrea VERHnccnio
(iMTn 1432, died 1488), who was a goldsmith, and
wnlptor in marble and bronze, and also a painter,
thoagh in painting his works are few and little
known. He drew admirably, and is celehratad

112 SilBLT ITALIAN PAIMTBRS.

through the oelebritj of the artists formed in his
school. Among them was Lionardo da Vinci. He
is said to have been the first who took casts in
plaster from life as aids in the study of form. In
the collection of Miss Rogers, the sister of the poet,
there is a portrait in profile, bj Verrocchio, of a
Florentine ladj of rank, rather hard and severe in
the execution and drawing, jet with a certain
simple elegance — a look of high breeding — whidi
is very striking.

I
I

For a while wa must leave beautiful FIorencBiuiiil
ber painters, who were etriviog after perfection hj
imitating what thej saw in nature, — the common
appearances of the ohj'ecta, animate and inanimate,
around them, — and turn to another part of Italy,
where there aruee a man of geniuB who purEued &
wholly different uourxe ; at least, be started from a
different point ; and who exercised for a tiine a great
-ji&uence on all the patnt«rB uf Italy, including
those of Florence. This was Anhhea Maktecna,
particularly interesting to English readers, as his
most celebrated work, the Triumph of Julius CiCBur,
is now presen'ed in the palace of Ilampton Court,
utd has formed part of the royal oollection ever
unce the days of Charles I.

Anbbka Manteqna was the son of very poor and
ohecure parents, and bom near Padua in 1430.*
All we learn of his early childhood amounts to this :

I of Muitflffoa^B birth
and died Id UlT ; bi

rii3)

114 XABLT ITALIAN PAINTSB8.

that he was employed in keeping sheep, and,
being conducted to the city, entered^ we know
not by what chance — the school of Francesco
Bquarcione.

About the middle of this century, firom which
time we date the reviyal of letters in Europe, the
study of the Greek language and a taste for the
works of the classical authors had become more and
more diffused through Italy. We are told that ** to
write Latin correctly, to understand the allusions
of the best authors, to learn the rudiments at least
of Greek, were the objects of every cultivated mind."
Classical literature was particularly studied at the
University of Padua. Squarcione, a native of that
city, and by profession a painter, was early smit-
ten with this passion for the antique. He not only
travelled over all Italy, but visited Greece in search
of the remains of ancient art. Of those which he
could not purchase or remove he obtained casts or
copies ; and, returning to Padua, he opened there
a school or academy for painters^ not, indeed, the
most celebrated nor the most influential, but at
that time the best attended in Italy. Squarcione
numbered one hundred and thirtynseven pupils, and
was considered the beet teacher of his time. Yet of
all this crowd of students the names of three only
are preserved, and of these only one has attained
lasting celebrity. By Squarcione himself we hear
only of one undoubted picture displaying ffceai
talent ; but it appears that he painted little« em

KAsrsxiSA.

119

[Joyvd his scholars to execato what works woce
eoufided to him, tmd gave himself up to the buai-
oees of instruction.

Am>itEA MAKTE(i:iA vioB onlj kuowii 1d the acail-
emj uf Squarcione as a puor boy, whuBO tulent and
docility rondored him a favorite with hia miutter.
fie worked earlj and lute, copying with asBkluity
the models which were set before hiiu, diuwing
fiom the frogmente of statuee, the busts, tlia Iulb-
telieC;, ornomentB, and vases, with wliicb Squarclune
had enriched hid aeademy. At the age uf nineteen
Andrea painted his first greut picture, in nliicb lie
npresented the four erangelistB ; his iiuagiuation
tuid his pencil familiarized only with tlie forms of
classical art, he gave to these sacred personages the
air and attitude of hoatbeo philosopherfl, but they
excited naTertbelees great applauee.

At this time tbo Venetian Jicoi-o Bellimc, father
of the two great Belliiii, of whom we Bhall have to
epeak presently, arrived in Padua, where he was
employed to paint Eome pictures. He was oonsid-
ered BB tho rival uf Squarcione, both as a painter
uid teacher. Andrea was captivated by the talents
■od conversation of the Venetian ; and yet mor«
attracted by tbe obarma of bis daughter Nicolasa,
whose hand he askod and obtained irom hor lather.
Jocopo Bellini was of opinion that he who bod
given such early proofs of assiduity and ability
must ultimately succeed ; and, though Andrea wa*
•till poor and but little iuiown, and tbe Bellini fam

116 XAELT ITiLliS PAINTEBS.

Qj aliead; rich and celebrated, be did not heeitata
to boetow hia daughter on the jouthful and modest
■uitor. This marrisige, and wbat he regarded aa
tho revolt of bis farorito disciple, so enmged Sqoar-
cione that he never forgave the ofience. Andre*
haling soon after completed a picture whil:^b ei-
oelled hie first, his old master attacked it with the
most inercilosB ecTeritj, and pabliclj deoauncod ita
&ull8. The (igurQa, he said, were BtLff, were cold
— without life, without nature ; and obsarved gar-
ooHticallj that Andrea should bars painted them,
white, like marble, and then the color would faavs
barmonked with the drawing. This criticiBm came
with a particularly ill grace &om him who bad
taught the Ter; principtea he now condemned, and
Androa felt it bitterly. The Italian annotator of
Vesari remarks, ver j trolj , tbat excessive praisa
often turns the brain of the weak man, and reuden
the man of genius slothful and careless ; but that
■erere and unjust censure, while it crushes medioc-
ritj, acts as a spur and eicitement to real genius.
Andrea showed that be had sufficient strength of
mind to rise superior to both praise and censure ;
he felt with disgust aud pain the malignity of bis
old master ; but be knew tbat much of his criticism
was just. Instead of showing any sense of injury
or diswuragcment, he set to work with fresh ardor.
Be drew and studied from nature, instead of con-
fininf* himself to the antique; be imitated the&eshtt
And livelier coloring of hie new rolations, the Bellini

117

kud liiB DDxt picture, which reprsBented a legend of
St. Christopher, wbb bo supericir to Ibe Li8t, that it

iaileneed the open caTilling of Squarcione, though U
tj'Ad not extinguish his (Lnimoaitj', perhapB mther
l^ded ta it ; fur Andrea had introduced among the
Aomerous figures in his fresco that of Squaruione
tiiiDBaif, and the liiteceBB was hj no means a Salter-
ing one. Not withstanding the admiration which
theae and other works excited in bia native city,
ihe anmity of his old mosiar Booina to have rondered
Padua intolerable as a residence. Andrea therefore
irent to Verona, where he executed several frescoes
Utd some smaller pictures ; and, being invited to
Mantua b; Ludovico Gonzaga, he finally entered
UiB Bervice of that prince. The native courtesy of
Andrea 'b mannsra, as well a£ his acquired Icnowl-
3dge and his ability in his profeesion, recommended
him to hia new patron, who loaded hiio with honors
nA favOra.

Some yeara a.{keT ha hod token up his residence in
Miuitua, and had oieeuted for the Marquis Lndovico
and hia aon ttnd succeeeor Frederi);o sereral works
fihich yet remain, Andrea waa invited to Rome by
P ipe Innocent Vill., to paint for him a chapel id
Balvedoro. The Marquis of Mantua permitted
depart but for a time only ; the parmisaiun
sompanied by gifts and by letters of recom-
mendatioii to the pontiff j and, the more to ahowthe
which the painter woa held, he bestowed
Ui biTu the honor of knighthood.

118

KABLT mtlAH PAINTKItS.

BlantegDEi, oa his ftrriral in Horoe, set himself M
work with liis characteristic diligence and entbuei-
OHDi, ao'l ocnrered the walls and the ceiling with a
multiplicit; of subjects, executed, bats Vosari, with
the deliciicj of miniatures. These beautifol paiat-
fngfl existod till lata in the last ceotorj, when Pins
VI, deetrojed the chapel to make room for his new
DiuBeum. While Andrea was eraplojod at V.(m«
b; Pope Innooont, a pleasant and ohurnvteristhi
ioindmil occurred, which doea honor both to him
ftnd to the pope. His haliDCBi wba at tliie timA
much oocopiod and distuTbed bj state aflikirB ; and
it happened that the pajnents were not tnnde with
the Tcguluritj which Andrea desired. The pope
■ometimes visited the artist at hi« work, and one
da; he asked him tlie meaning of a Mrtain femah
figure on which he was painiing. Andrea replied,
with a significant look, that he wa«lr;ing to rupre-
seot Patience. The pope, understanding him at
once, replied, " If jou wonld place Patience in fit-
ting companj, you should paint Diacrrjion at her
itde." Andrea took the hint, and said no more ;
tnd when his work was completed, the pope not
ml; paid him the sums etiputatod, but rewarded
lim munilicentlj besides. About the jear 148T he
returned to Mantua, where he built himself a mog-
nifioent house, painted inside and outside hj his own
hand, and in which he resided, in great esteem and
honor, until his death in 1506. He was buried in
the church of his patron saint, St Andrew, where

I

119

bu monummt in bronze and BevoTol of hie picture*
maj jet be seen.

The exiBting works of Andren Mantegna. are bo
numerous, that we must content oureelvea with
recording only the most remaikuble, and the occa-
Btons OS which thaj were painted.

Id the year 1476, Andrea executed for hia friend
uid patron, the Marquis LudoTico Gonraiga, the
&moufl frieze repreHenCing in nine compartmenta
the triumph of Julius Ceeaar after his i^nqiieet of
Gaol. Theee were placed round the upper part of
a ball in the palace of San SebaBtiano, at Mantua,
which Ludorico had lately erected. They hung in
this palace for a century aod a half. When Mantua
w«8 Backed and pillaged, in 1629, they, with nianj
Other pictures, escaped ; the Duke Carlo Gonzaga,
redttced to poverty by the vicea and prodigality of
hiH predecesBors, and the wars and calamities of hia
own time, sold hia gallery of pictures to our King
Charles I. for twenty thousand pounds ; and theee
ftnd other works of Andrea Mantegua came t« Eng-
land with the rest of the Man tuan collection. When
King Charles' pictures were Bold by the Parliament
»fter his death, the Triumph of Juliua OiBsar waa
pntehaaed for one thousand pounds i but, on tha
return of Charles II., it was restored to the royal
oollecCion, how or by whom does not appear. Tha
nine pictures now bang in the palace of Ramp-
ton Court. They are painted in distemper on
\wUled linen, which has been stretched on fiomea

120 ZIBLI ITALIAN FAISTEKS.

knd origioallj placed ogaiiut the naJl irith oni»
mentod pilitatera diriding tho compaituenta. In
their present Ikded and dilapidated condition, iiur-
ried and uninfonuad TiBit^ra will prubablj pum
them uver with a carsorj glauoe ; jet, if we except
the Cartoons of Raphael, liamptua Court containt
nothing so curious and valuable as tiiis old &iez«
of Andrea Muntegna, which, notwithstuading thn
frailtj of ihe material on which it is executed, hu
now existed for throe hundred andsist^-seren jeors,
luid| having been frequontlj engraved, is celebrated
oU over Europe.

AndreA retamed through his whole life that tnste
for the forma and effects uf sculpture which had
given to all bis earlier works a certain burdness,
ueagreneBs, and formality of outline, neither agrev*
i^ein iteelf nor in harmonjwiCh pictorial illusion:
but in the Triumph of Julius Ciesar the combina-
tion of a sculptural atjle with the aims and haauties
of pointing was not, as we usually find it, misplaced
ftnd unpleasing; it was fitted to the designed pur-
pose, and executed with wonderful success ; the in-
numerable figures move one after another in a long
and splendid procession, as in an ancient bas-relief,
but colored lightly, in a etjle resembling the an-
tique paintingB at Pompeii. Originally it appears
that tho nine compartments were separated jion>
BOoh other by sculptured pilasters. In the first
picture, or compartmeiit. Re have the opening of
the proceesioQ ; trumpets, incense burning, eland-

I

MiHTKGNi. 121

4nls Lome aloft hy the vi:^toriouH Baldiers. In tha
tecond picture, we hare tlie atiibues uf the gods car-
ried off from the templeB of the enemy ; battflring-
mmH, implemeuta of war, heaps of glittering ormof
carried on men's elioulders, or borne aloft ia char-
iots. In the third picture, more splendid trophiai
of a similar kind ; huge rosea Glled with gold coin,
tripods, &C. Id the fourth, more euch trupliies,
with the oxen cionned with garlands for tho sacri-
fice. In the fifth picture are four elephants adorned
with rich garknds of fruito and ilowers, bearing on
their backs magnificent candeUhra, and attended
by beautiful jouths. In the eisth are figures bear-
ing vaaea, and others dieplajiog the arms of the
vanquished. The seTentii picture shows us the
unhappy oaptirea, who, according to the barbarous
Soman custom, wore exhibited on these occasione
to the scoffing and exulting populace. There is
here & group of female captives of all ages, among
them a young, dejected, bride-like figure, a woman
carrying her infant children, and a mother leading
by the hand her little boy, who lifts up his foot aa
if he had hurt it-, this group la particularly pointed
out by Vasari, who pruisee it for its nature and its
grace. In the eighth picture, we have a group oi
singers and musicians, and among them is seen a
youth whose unworthy ofGce it was to mock at the
wretched captives, in which he is assisted by a
chorus of the common people ; a beautiful youth
viCh a tamboi.rine is distinguished by siogulal

122

r iTALUH FAiMTEna.

P

■pint tind grace. In the last pictnre appe&ra tha
eocqueror, Julius Cxsar, in a sumptuoua chariot
tiablj addmed with Bculptaree in the aotique st;fle
He it eurroaDded and fuUowed bj a aovd of Gl-
ares, nnd among them ia aeen a jouth bearing oiaA
a standard, on which is inscribed CKear'e memora-
Ue wordB, Vetti, Vidi, Via — "I came, I saw, I
touquered."

Tha inconceiTable riflineai of fancj displajed iii
this triumphal proccnion, tha nnmbers of fignret
and objecU of every kind, the propriety of the
antique coetumea, oroaiueatB, simor, kc,, with
tha scientific manner in which the purspectiva is
ntantiged, the whole being Eidapted to its intended
■ituation fur above the «je, bo that the under sur-
GuiBH of tha objects ara alone Tisible [as would ba
the esse when viewed from below] , the upper aur-
bcee vanishing into air ; all these merits combined
render this Reriee of piotares one of the grandest
works of the firtoenth century, worthy of the atten-
tion and admiration of all beholders.*

When the great Flemish painter, Rubens, was at
Mantua in ItiOO, lie was struck with aatoninhment
on viewing these works and made a line cu[7 in a
reduced form of the fiAh compartment. Copy, how
mta, it cannot properly be called ; it is rather a
Hrnoi in the manner of Rubens, the Btjle of lbs

r((lD«l trUie ■ini ke

KANTEaNA.

121

nlit^, and even some of the pircumstancpB, being
■Itdred. TLib fins picture ia now in the poaseB^on
of Mr. Rogers, the poet.

Another of the most oolebrated of MBnt«gna.'B
worlcs ia the great piotare non in the T^uttq, at
Paris, and called by the Italians "la Madonna
ie'.la ViCloria," the Madonna of Victory. The
KWBsion on which it viae painted recalls a great
erent in LiatoTj, the inToaion of Italy by Charlee
Vm., of France. Of all the wara undertaken by
ambitious and unprincipled manarchs, whether in-
Htigated by revenge, by policy, or by rapacioiu thint
of dominion, tbia invaaion of Italy, in 1495, wea tha
moat Bagitious in its injuHtice, its fully, luid its crn-
dty; it waa also the moat retributive in ita rosulta.
Charles, after ravaging the whole country from tlie
Alps to Calabria, found himself obliged to retreat,
and on the banks of the Taro waa mot by Oian-
Francesco, Marquis of Mantua, the son and autv
aeaior of Frederigo, at the head of an army. On
tlie part of the Italians it waa rather a. victoij
missed than a, victory won ; for the French con-
tjnned tboir retreat across the Alps, and the lose of
the Italiana was immense. The Marquis of Mantoa,
however, chose to consider it as a victory. He buUt
aoburch on the occasion, and commanded Andrea
Hantegna to paint a picture for the high attar,
which ahoald esprtss at once his devotion and bia
gratitude. Considering the subject and the occo-
tion, the French must have bad a particular and

U&LY ITALIAN F1INIES3.

1 plajtDg thiB picture in Vbm
X hangs, at the upper end o{

I

Liiiil)cii>UB pleaaura i

Iiouvra, where it no'
that immenBe gallerj.

It repraaeuta in tha centre, under a canupj oi
ubor DoupOBedofgarlandHof Miagoand fruit, and
leated on a throne, the Virgin Marj, who liolila on
her knees the in&ul Saviour. On ber right stand
the archangel Michael and St. Maurice iu complete
armor- Oo the lafl are the patron saints of Man-
tua, St. LonginiiB and St. Andrew, with the infant
St. John. More in front, on each side, are thsMar-
quia of Mantua and hie wife, tha celebrated and
accomplished Isabella d'B^te, who, kneeling, retam
thanks lor the so-called victorj over the French.
The figure of the Maroheaa Isabella is still, in the
French catalogue of the Louvre, staled St. Eliza-
beth, an error pointed out long eince bj Ijinzi and
others. This picture was Snlshed in the jear ISOO,
when Andrea was saventy. In beautj and softness
of eiecution it exceeds all hia other wotka, while
in tha poetical conception of tbo whole, the grand-
eur of tha saints, and the axpresBiou in the oouii-
tenanoa of Goozaga as he gozee upwards in a trans-
port of devotion, it is wurthj of bis best years. In
tba Louvre are three other pictures by Andrea Man-
tc^a. One is the Ctiicifixioa of our Saviour, a
small picture, remarkahle for containing his own
portrait in the Rgore of the soldier seen half-lengtb
in front. Another, an allagorical aubject, reprft-
■enta the Ticea flying before Wisdom, Chaatitj, and

I

KANTEaHA. 125

Philoeophy, while Justice, Fortitude, and Temper-
uicfl. latum from liboTe, onee more to tal:e up
their huhitation among men. Another picture, of
eiooeiiing beauty, reprasenta the Mqboh dancing to
the eound of Apollo's Ijre. Slara, Venus, and
Cupid, stand on a rocky height, looking upon theni,
while Vulcan la aaen at a, distance threatening his
&)Chlee8 consort. In this little picture Aluntcgna
esems inspired by the very spirit of Greek iirt. The
Musea are designed with exquisite taste and feel-
ing. It ia probably tlio chef-d'oouTre of the artist
in his own particular style, that for which hia
Datural turn of mind and early studies under Squar-
oione had fitted htm. lu general his religious pio-
turea are not pleasing ; and many of his classical
Bubjeots have a tuateless meagrenese in the forms,
which is quite opposed to all our conceptions of
beauty and greatness of style ; hut he has done
grand things. Besides the works already men
tioned, there are four pictures in the Museum, at
BerliD, and others at Vienna, Florence, and Naples.
Of many disciples formed by Andrea Maategna,nat
one attained to any fame or influence in hia art,
Tbey all exaggerated hia manner and defects, ae is
asual with acholars who follow the manner of theit
master. His two sone were both artists, atudloua
and respectable men, hut neither of them inherited
(he geniua of their father. Ariosto, in a famous
itanza of hia great poera (" Orlando Furioso,"
mxiii., at. 2), in which he has commemorated all

l'2Q E4BI.T ITiLIAK PAINTERS.

tbe leading paintorB of his own time, pUoas tbt
luune of Andrea Mivntegna betwaea thoAe of Lwnt-
ktilo da Vinci and Gian BsUiiii :

" E qnsi obe turn a. oostri di, n »n orm,
t«oD>rda, Andrea fttantagan. Qian BelUno,
Duo Duui, e iiacl, afao » par tanlpc, • aoltiM
Hiflhel piu flhe nmrtu.! Angel d[>ino [
SaMtBO, RafiusI, Titian cb' honon
Nun DUD Cador, eb> quoi Teni»i& « CtblsD i
S gli kllri di cdI IoI opra >i Tede
Qual di)ll> priijoa etl Bi luggo, • oredv."

"Ld t Leonardo r Qian' BelJIno tiow.
Two Doasi, and MoDtogna rsaohed bj finr,
With tbcBe an angel, Mloliael, gtjried dinn^
In whom Uie iculptor and the puutei join :
Sebuliao, Titian, Raphael, tbrre that gnat
Cadora, Tenioe, and Uibino's nKO :
Eaoh gnniuH tbat can past eTflota reoall
In liriiie flgnm on Ch« itorisd wall."

Thb Istsntios of E-voRATisa OM Wood and tJoi
Pek: 1423—1452.

Andkba Manteona v&e not onlj ominent m k
painter ; he owed much of his celebrity and IiM
influence ovia the ariista of that age to the multi*
plication and dlffuaion of liie designs hj copper-
plftte eoj^ving, an art unknown till hia time
Qe woe one of the first who practised iC-.-oertaiiiI;
tbe first painter who engraved his own dMi^ne.

In these days, when we cannot walk throit|,''i Um

UANTKONA. 127

nreets eren of a tbird-rata town without puatdng
ahopt with their wiudowa filled with ongravinga
aiid piiuts ; whea not out books only, but the
DewBpupera that lie on our tables, are illuetntted ;
when Llie Penny Ma^asine can place a little print
after MnategiiH at onoe befure the eyes of fifty
thousaad readorg ; whea every beautiful work of
art utt it appears is multiplied and diifused by hun-
dredB and thuusaods of copies ; when the talk ia
rife of wondrouH InventionB by which such copiM
■ball reproduce themselves to infioitude, without
obange or deterioration, wo find it difficult to throw
our imagination bock to a time when Huch thinp
wars sot.

What printing did for literature, ongrftving on
wood and oupper boa done for painting — not only
diffused the designs and inventions of artiste, whieh
would otberwiM be coufined to one locality, but in
many cases preserved those which would otharwiae
have periabed altugsther. It is interesting to re-
member that tliree iuTentione to which we owe suoh
infinite instruotiiin and delight were almost simul-
taneous. The earliest known impression of an en-
graving on wood is dated 1423 ; the earliest im-
pression &oni an engraved metal plate was mnda
about 1452 ; and tlie first printed book, properly
M called, bears date, according to the best author
*ties, 1455.

Stamps for impreBsing aigoatures and oharaotma
OD papffl, in which the required forms wara cnt

128

KABLI ITALUK PAINtKSa.

upon blocks of wood, we find to itw in tha earliest
times. Seals for coDViiDtB and souietiae, in which
the diatinctiie decices ur leturs were cut hollow
upon wood or motal, wore known in the fonrtoenth
century. The tranHition eeeinB eaaj to the next
ELpplication of the art, and thence, perhaps, it hiLH
happened that the name of the man who made this
Bti3p is lout. All that ia certainlj known Ib, that
the first wood-blocks for the purpose of pictoHal
representations were cut in Germany, in the prov-
ince of Suahia i that the first use made of the art
was for the multiplication of playing-cards, which
about the year 1418 or 1420 were mnnulactured in
great quantities at Augsburg, Nuremberg, and
Venice ; and that the next application of the art
was deTotional. It was used to multiply rude
figures of saints, which wore dietribated among tha
oommou people. The earliest wood-cut known is i
coarse iigure of St Christopher, dated 1423. This
curiosity exibtB in the library of Earl Spencer, at
Althorpa. Another impiesHion, which is dedared
by connuiaseurs to be a little later, is in the Royal
library at Paris, where it is framed and hung up
for tha inspection of the curious. Kudo, ill-drawn,
grotesque, — printed with some brownish fluid, on
the coarsest ill-colored paper, — still it is impos-
iible to look at it without some of the curiosity,
interest, and rerereuco, with which we regard tin
first printed book, though it must be allowed that
in comparison with this first sorry specimen of a

I

UANTEUNA. 129

weod-ciit, the fint book was a beautiiul pcrfona-

Up to a late period, tha origin of angraving on
copper woe inTolved in a like ub«curitj, and ti|.
uraes of cootroTerBf bave been written on tlia suV
ject; Bome cluiniiiig the incentiun for Germany,
othera for Italy. At length, however, tho indefati-
gable reeeorchea of anliquariane and cannoisaeurs,
aided bj (be accidental discoyory in 1794 of the
first impresBion from a metal plate, have set the
smtter at rest. If to Germany belongs the inven-
tioa of engraving on wood, the art of copper-plate
ougraving wae beyond all doubt first introduced
and practised at Fluronco; yet bore again the in-
Tuition fieaniH to liavo arisen oot of a eombination
of oooidental i^iroamBtances, rather than to belong
of right to one asa-a. The circiuastancaa, as well
as wA can trace them, were theee :

The goldsmiths of Italy, and particularly of Flor-
anop, wwe famous, in tlie fifteenth century, for
working in Niello. They traoedwith a sharp point
or graver on metal plates, generally of silver, all
kinds of designs, sometimes only arabesques, soma-
timee single figures, sometimes elaborate and com-
plicated dcsignB from sacred and profane history.
Ihe .inee thus cut or jfrofcAri/ were filled up with a

black n

IS of sulphate of silver, so that the design

F traced appeared very di

I vbite metal. In Italy the Bi

t, contrasted frith the

B called from its black color,!

13(

Lalin ntgellwn, B.aA in Italian nieUo. In tlits miin-
ner church plate, ae chalicei and reliquurjee, alM
daggar-ahoaths, Bword-hilts, cloapB, buttuns, and
manj other small biItbt articloB, were Drnainented.
In Sir John Soane'a Maeeam there is an old M8.
book, of wliich the binding exhibits eome I«iiutif\il
ipecimens of niello-work of the fifteenth century.
ThoBA who practised the art were called nkllalon.

According to Vasari's account, Muao FiDiguem
was a eltilfal goldsmith, living in Florence. He
became celebrated for the artistic beautj of hU
deeigoB and workmaiDihip in niello. Finiguena !■
Baid to be the Brat to whom it accidentally occofred
to tij the efieot of his work, and preaerre a memo>
randiun of his design in the following manner:
Previous to filling up the engniTed linos with the
niello, which was a. final process, he applied hi them
a blaok fluid easily removed, and then laying a
piece of damp papor on the plate or object, and
preesiag or rubbing it forcibly, the paper imbibed
the fluid from the tracing, and presented a fac-
aimile of the design, which had the appearance of
being drawn with a pen. That Finlguerra was tha
Erst or the only worker in niel/o who used tbia
method of trjing the effect of the work ia m.iro than
doubtful ; but it is certain that the earliegt known
impression of a niollo plat« is the impression from
a pax* now existing in tho oharch of S. Giovanni

■u nrull; cf the itcbiM wt

, often ttlridted vllh ff

I

UANTESKA. 131

t,t FIcrence executed bj Fisiguerra, and represent-
ing the Bubjwt WB liaTS often alluded to — the Cor
onatioa of the Virgin by her Son, the Radoemer, in
preeonce of SaintB and Angels. It contains nearly
Uiir^ minnte figares, moat ezquieitely designed
This relio is presorred in the Royal Library at Pnris,
where it woa discovered lying among some old
Ttalian engravings by the Abh^ Zani. The date of
the work ia fiied beyond all dispute ; for the record
of the pajtneitt of sixty-six gold ducats (thirty-two
pounds sterling) to Mass Finiguerm for this ideii'
tieal pax still asista, dated USa. The only existing
impreesion from it mnst have been made previously,
perhaps a Tew weeks or months before. It is now,
like the first wood-aut, framed and hung up in
theRoyal Library at Paris for the inspection of the
curious.

Another method of trying the effect of niello-
work before it was quite completed was by taking
the impression of the design, not on paper, but on
lulphur, of which some curious and valuable epeci-
mens remain. After seeing several impressions of
aiello plates of the fifteenth century, we are no
longer surprised to find skilful goldsmiths converted
into excellent painters and sculptors. Tn our own
time, this art, afler having been forgotten since the
!isteonth century, when it fel! into disuse, has been
FOry Buecessfnlly revived by Jlr. Wagnor, a gold-
unith of Berlin, now residing at Paris,

We have no evidence that it oconrred to Mom

132

EABLT rTAUAN PAINTERS.

f

FiDiguerra, or anj othar niallo' works', t< eiignin
dwignB on plat« of copper for the eipre« purpuae
of making and multiplying impreBBioue of them on
paper. Tbe first who did this aa a tnule or pro-
fwHion was Baccio Baldiai, who, about 1467, em-
ployed several painters, partJcularlj Sandro BotlU
ealli and Filippino Ljppi, to make designs for hint
to engrave. Andrea Maotegna oaught up the idea
Willi a kind of eDtbusiasm. Be made the firtit ex-
pariment when about siitj, and, according to Lana,
he eograred, during the sixteen remaining years at
bia life, not leaa than fiftj platca. Of them libout
thirtj are now known to collectors, and conaidwed
genuiDe. Among them are his own designs (or tho
Triumph of Julius Cseaor (the fifth, uith, ancl
•eventh compartments onlj) .

Familiar aa we now are with all kinds of copper
plate and wood engraving, there are persons who dd
Dot understand deurl; tlie diQ'erence between them.
Independent of the diSerence of the material on
which they are executed, the grand distinction be-
tween tbe two arte is this : that the copper-plate
engraver cuts out the lines by which the impresedoB
Is produced, which are thus left hollow, and after-
wards filled up with ink ; the impression is produced
by laying a piece of wet paper on the plate, and
pftPBing tham together under a heavy and perfectly
oven roller. The method of the ongrayer on wood
is precisely the reverse. He cuts away all the sup-
toanding surface of the block of wood, and leavoi

MANTEGNA. 133

ihe lines which are to produce the impression
prominent. They are afterwards blackened witii
ink like a stamp, and the impression taken with a
common printing-press.

When Andrea Mantegna made his first essays in
engraving on copper, he does not seem to have used
a press or roller. Perhaps he was unacquainted with
that implement. At all events, the early impres-
sions of his plates have evidently been taken by
merely laying the paper on the copper-plate, and
then rubbing it over with the hand ; and they are
very &int and spiritless, compared vrith the later
impressions taken with a press

OOMMENCEMENT OF THE VENETIAN

SCHOOL.

THE BELLINI.

A. B. 1421 to A. D. 1610.

Jacofo Bellini, the &ther, had studied painting
under Gentile da Fahriano, of whom we hayo
spoken as the scholar, or at least the imitator, of
the famous monk, Angelioo da Fiesole. To expresi
his gratitude and veneration for his instructor,
Jacopo gave the name of Gentile to his eldest son.
The second and most famous of the two was chris-
tened Giovanni (John) ; in the Venetian dialect,
Gian Bellini,

The sister of the Bellini being married to Andrea
(^ant^na, who exercised for forty years a sort of
patriarchal authority over all the painters of north-
em Italy, it is singular that he should have had so
little influence over his Venetian relatives. It is
true the elder brother, Gentile, had always a certain
leaning to Mantegna's school, and was fond of
studying from a mutilated antique Venus which he
kept in his studio. But the genius of his brother
Gian Bellini was formed altogether by other influ*

(134)

I

136

tmxe. The eommetciail inliDrcuuise between Venica
and Germany brought several pictures and painters
of Gerinauy and the NetlierUnda itito Vouica. In
the island of Mumno, at Venice, dwelt a liimily
called the Vivoiini, who had curried on the ait of
pointing from generatioD to genenLtion, and who
bad asaociated with them some of the early Flem-
inga. ThuB it waa that the paintera of tho first
Venetian school became familiarized with a stjle
of wloring more rich and vivid than was practiEed
in any other part of Italj. They ware among the
£iat who Hubatitnted oil-painting for diatempor. To
these advantagea the elder Bellini added the knowl-
edge of drawing and parspective taught in the
Paduan school, and the religioua and spiritual feel-
ing which they derived from tho example and in-
Btruction of Gentile da Fahriano. In theee com-
bined elements Gian Bellini was educated, and
founded the Venatiaa school, afterwards so famous
wad so prolific in great artists.

The two brothers were lirst employed together in
an immense work, which may tie compared in its
importance and its object to the contemplated dec-
oratioD of our bouses of parliament. They were
commanded to paint the Hail of Council in the
palace of the Doge, with a series of pictures repre-
senting the principal eventa (partly legendary and
tiotitious, partly authentic) of the Venetian wars
witii tlie Emperor Frederic Barbarusaa (1177) ; the
nunbata and victorieif on tJie Adriatic, ttie rocon-

^

136 KARI.T tTAIJAN PAINTK&B.

•iliaCion of tlie Emperor with Pope AI^andsT lO
tn tits Plaofl of St. Mark, when Frederic hrfd tb«
Hirrup of the pope's mule ; tbo Doge Zinoi r&
eHTiDg from llie pope the gold ring witb wiiioh h«
aepouiied tba Adriutic in token u( perpetuftl domiit-
ian over it ; and other memarsible scenes dear to
the prida and patriutinn of the Venetione.

These tvere paiut«d in fourteen cumpartnMmla
toaai the h»ll. What ramaina to ub of the wolki
of the two brothers reoders it & subject of la«tiiig
regret that these frescoes, and others Btill man
valunble, were deatrojad bj Are in 1577.

In 1452 Conatantinople was taken b; the Tarki,
an event which threw the whole of Christendom
into coDBternation, not unmixed with eliume. Tho
Tenetiana were the Grst to reaiiuiB their oommercitil
relations with the Leiant ; they sent an embasay
to the TnrkiBh Sultan to treat fur the redeuptiro
of the ChriBtian priBoners, und negotiate a peace.
Thia was happilj concluded in 1454, under the aus-
pinea of the Doge, old Francesco Foscari.* It was
<in this occasiou that the Sultan Mobamiued II.,
hariug seen some Venetian pioturos, doeired that
the Venetian government would Band him one of
their pnintera. The Council of Ten, after some de-
liberation, selactad for this soiriue Qentile Bellini,
who took his departure accordingly in one of the

tHB BELLlSt. 137

ttlU gallejs, and oa arriving at CunBtantiLOpla
w»fl received with great hunor. During his resi-
dence thor« lie paintoil the portrait of the Sultan
and one of his fuForite sultanas ; and ha took on
opportunity uf presenting to the Sultan, as a tokaa
of homage from himself, a picture of the head of
John the Baptist ufter decapitatiun. The Sultan
admired it niucli, hut criticized, with tlie air of a
connoissear, the ai^earaace of the neck, lie ob-
served that the Bhrmking of the Bevered nervea v/aa
not properl; oxpresaed. As Gentile Bellini did not
appear to feel the full furoe of this criticiem, the
Sultan called in one of his slaves, ttommanded the
wretch tu kneel down, and, drawing his sahre, cu(
aff his bead with a stroke, and thus gave tlie aston-
iahed and terrified painter a practical lesaoii in
;uiatomj. It ma; be easilj beliered that after this
aorrible ecene Gentile became uueat^ till ho had
obtained leave of departure ; and the Sultan al
length dismissed him, with a letter of strong reoom-
Ueadation to hla own govarnment, a chain of gold,
and other rich presents. After his return toVenict
ba painted some remarkable pictures ; among them
tne reprceenting St. Mark prBOuhing at Alexandria,
in which he has painted the men and women of
^exandria in rich Turkish costumes, such na he
lad seen at Uonstanttnople. This curious picture
Li now in the Academy at Milan, and is engraved
In Eosini'a " Storia della Pitiura." A portrait of
Uohommed C, painted b; Gentile Bellini, is said

EADLY ITALIAN PAIHTEUS,

lo b« in EDgland. All the earlj eingnt\iage of tbm

Turkisb conqueror which i
painted bj Bellini.

the portraits painted bj Bellini. Ue died in 1501,
at the age of eighty.

A much more memorable artist in all nspeota
was Ilia brother Gian Bellini. Ills wurks axe
divided inbi two classes, — tliose whioh he painted
beEjre he adopted the process of oil-puinliiig, and
those executed afterwards. The 6rst have great
iweetneea and elegance and puritj of eipreesion,
vith, howerer, a cerCain timidity and dryiiew of
nianner ; in the latter we have a foretaste of the
rich Veuetlan coloring, without auj diminution of
the grure simple dignity and melancholy sweetuesB
of eipreesion which distinguished his earlier works.
Between hie sUty-Gfth and hia eightieth yanz he
pointed those pictures which ore considered as his
chefs-d'ccuTrCjand which are now prcewved in the
chutches at Venice and in the Gallery of tha
Academy of Arts in that city.

It baa bi«u said that Gian Bellini introduoed
himself disguised into the room of Antonella dft
Uosalna when he was painting at Venice, and stole
from him the newly-discoTered secret of mixing tha
90lors with oils instead of water. It ia a consala-
doD to think that this story does not rest on any
gridence worthy of credit. Antonella hud divulgsd
his secret to eereral of his friends, particularly K
Domenioo Veno;iiano, aflerwarda murdered by An
diea Castogno. Besidee, the character of Bellin.

IBB BEUJNI. 159

tenders it unlikely that he would have bean guilty
of Buoh a. perfidiuua trick

Gion BoUini is Bitid to have introduced at Venice
the fasbioo. of portrait-painting. Before his time
the likeaesaes of living penwnH hud bei'U beijueutlj
painted, but tboj were almost alwaya introduced
into pictures of large subjects. Portraitfl, properlj
80 caUed, were scarcely known till bia time ; then,
and afterwards, every noble Venetian sat for hU pio-
ture — generally the head only, or half-lengtb. Their
houses were filled with family portraits, and it be-
came a oustom to have the elEgiee of their dogea and
those who distinguished theuiselreB in the service of
their oountiy painted by order of the state and bung
in the ducal palace, where many of them are still
to be Been. Up to the latest period of bia life Gian
Bellini bad been employed in painting for bis coun-
trymen only religioua pictures or portraits, or eub-
jectB of Venetiim history ; the cluBsical taata wbit'b
had spread through all the states of Italy had not
yet penetrated to Venice. But towarda the end of
hia life, when nearly ninety, he was invited to Fer-
rara to paint in the palace of the duke a dance of
baochanala. On this occasion he made the acquaint-
ance of Arioato, who men tions him with honor among
the painters of bis time (seep. 12G).

There is at the palace of Hampton Court a very
"nrioas little bead of Bellini, certainly genuino,
Uiough much injured. It ia inacribad underneath,
bhanei Bellini ipse. We have lately acquired fof

I

140 E.4KLY ITlLtAtr PAINTEB8.

•or NatiuD&l Gulterf a most cuiiona and gcnain*
portrait of one of the old doges, pointed h\ BoUioi.
It H sonevrbat hard in tha exeaution, but we c&d-
not look at it witbout feeling that tre uuuld swear
to tha truth of the retemblonce. la the Lourre at
Paris are tbree pictures aacribad to Gian Dellini.
Ona contains his own portrait and that of bis
brother Gentile, heads onlj ; the formb: is dark,
the latter Tair ; both wear a kind of cap or ieret.
Ana tlier, about six fuet ia length, repmcmtB the
ncepliuo of a Venetian ambaBsador at Constanli'
nopls. A third a a Virgin and Child. The lirsl-
mentioood is by Gentile, and the two last uncertain.
In the Berlin MuBoum are seven picturae bj him,
all considered genuine, and all are painted on panel
and in oib. The; belong, therefore, to his lat«et
and best period.

Gian Bellini died in 1516. Ha had formed many
diaciplcB, and among them two whose glorj in these
later times had almost eclipsed that of their great
teacher aod precursor — Giorqionk and Titiaw.
Another, far loas famous, but of whom some bean-
tiful pictures still eiiBt at Venice, was Cima d>
Oonu^iano.

IHE UMBBIAN SCHOOL

PIEXRO PERUGENO.

Doni U«, dkil IK*.

Tbb fame of Fehvqino rests more oc hi
been the master aud instructor of Raphael, than oi
his onn works or wortli, Tet ha waa a great and
remarkable man in hia own daj : inboresting in
oura aa the representative of a certain school of art
immediatelj preoeding that of Raphael. Francesco
Francia has left behind iiim a name perhaps leea
kaovu and oelebruted, but far mora revered.

The tarritorj of Umbria in Italy comprisea that
monotainous region of the Eccleaiastical States now
oatled the Suchj of Spoloto. Perugia, Foligno,
Aseisi, and Spolato, were among it«princifal towni;
Bnd the vbole countrj, with ita retired valleja and
isolated cities, vae distinguished in the middle ages
U the pecnliar seat of religtoua enthoaiaem. tt waa
here that St. Francis of AastEi preached and prayed,
md gathered around him his fervid, aelf-denying
rotarics. Art, as usual, reflected the babita and
feelinga of the people; and here Gentile da Fabriano,
the beloved friend of Angelico da Fiesole, eierciaed
fl41\

142 SABLT ITALIAN PAINTXB8.

A particular influence. No lees than thirteen of
fourteen Umbrian painters, who flourished between
the time of Gentile and that of Raphael, are men-
tioned in Passavant's *' Life of Raphael." This
mystical and spiritual direction of art extended
itself to Bologna, and found a worthy interpreter
in Francesco Francia. We shall, however, speak
first of Perugino.

Pietro Yannucci was bom at a little town in Um-
bria, called Citta della Pieve, and he was known
for the first thirty years of his life as Pietro della
Pieve ; after he had settled at Perugia, and had
obtained* there the rights of citizenship, he was
called Pietro di Perugia, or II Perugino, by which
name he is best known.

We know little of the early life and education of
Perugino ; his parents were respectable, but poor.
EQs first instructor is supposed to have been Nicolo
Alunno. At this time (about 1470) Florence was
considered as the head-quarters of art and artists ;
and the young painter, at the age of five-and-twenty ,
undertook a journey to Florence, as the most certain
path to excellence and fame.

Yasari tells us that Pietro was excited to industry
by being constantly told of the great rewards and
honors which the professors of painting had earned
in ancient and in modem times, and also by the
pressure of poverty. He left Perugia in a state of
absolute want, and reached Florence, where he pur*
sued his studies for many months with unwearied

14a

liligenoe, but bo poor mennwIiUe tliat he hud not
syea a bed to sleep on. Ue studied Jn the chapol of
Masaccto in the Ciirmine, which haa been already
mantionod ; rei:eived some inatruction in drawing
and modelling from. Andrea Teiroccliio ; and was
B &iend and fellow-pupil of Liunordo da Tinei
They are thus mentioned together in a contempo-
mypoem written bj Giovanni Saoti, the fathar
01 the groat Bapboel ;

" Do8 giovin por i' eUta 8 par d' amori,
Lianordu da Yinul a '1 Parusino
Pier dells Pioie, ohe son divin PittorL"

" Two jiotiths, equal in }>£&», equal ia nSootion,
LiooardD da Viaci aod the Pcrugian
Petsr dslla PiBvo, bath divine painters."

But, though " par d' etatee par d' amori,'' tbey
MTfainly were not equal in gifts. Ferugino dwin-
dles into ineignificance when we think of the tri-
nnipliant and universal powers of Lionardo. But
this is anticipating.

There can be no doubt thnt Pemgino poeseeiad
goniuB and feeling, but confined and shadowed b;
«ertain moral defects ; it was as if the brightness
of hia geniuH kept np a oontioual struggle with the
meouDess of his soul, to be in the end overpowered
aod held down by the growing weakness and debase-
ment. Yetwhen young in hie art a pure and gentlt
Ebeling guided bin pencil; and in the desire toleom

^

p

^

U4 ElBLT IIALIAS PAISTERS.

ill Uia fixed delwmiiiBtitiD to imEiruTa nod to eical,
hut calm sense and his calculaliiig ^irit sloud him
In good stead. Xhera was a laiuuua cooveot neoi

florencfl, in which the monks — not lazy nor igno-
rant, aa monks ore usuallj d^siiibed — carried on
aeveral arts BucceBafQliy, particularlj tbe art of
painting on ghisB. Perugtno iias employed to paint
wme IraBOOW in tfaeix oonTent, and also to mak«
demgos fur the glass-paintars. la return, be learned
how to prepare and to sppl; many colors not jet in
general use ; and the lucid and vigorouH tint« to
which his eye becotDe accustom oJ in their workshup
CMtainly influenned his style of coloring. Ha grad-
o&Ily rose in estimation ; painted a yaat number o>
pictures and frceooea for the churches and chapelt
of Florence, and particularly an altar-piece of gres I
beauty fir the tamous oonvent of Tallombiosa. In
this be represented the AeBumption of the Virgin,
who is soaring to heaven in the midat of a ofaoii of
angels, while the twelve Apostles beneatJi look up-
wards trith adoration and sBtoDishment. This ut-
celleut picture is preserved in tbe Acndoniy of tbe
Fine Arte at Florence, and near it is the portr^t
of the Abbot of Vallombrosa by whose order it was
panted. Ten years after Perugino had first entered
Horence a poor, namolees youth, ha was called to
Rome by Pope Sixtua IV. to assist with most of the
distingiiishel painters of that time in painting th>)
&mous SiPtiT ■« Cliapol. All the frescoes of Peru
gino except 'wo were afterwards ell'aced to maka

I

PKBucisa. 145

Mom for Micbael Angelo'e Lost Judgment. ThoM
which remain ebow that tbe style of Ferugino at
tbia time Yfaa decidedlj Florentine, and quite dis-
tinot from his earlier und later works. They repr^
tent the Baptism of Christ in the River Jordan, and
Chrint delivering the Keys to St. Peter. While at
Rome he also piuated a room in the paluve of Prince
Coloona. When heTetumed to Perugia lie resumed
Che feeling and manner of his earlier years, combined
with better drawing and coloring, and his best pie-
tnres were painted between 1400 and 1502. His
principal work, however, was the hull of the Col-
lege del Cait^o (that is, IIoll of Eicliange] at Pe-
mgia, moHt riohly and elahomtelj painted with
frEscoBB, which still exist. The personage intro-
duced exhibit a strange mixture of tbe sucred and
pro&ne. John tbe Saptlst and other saints, Isaiah,
Moses, Daniel, David, and other propliets, are Gg-
nred on the walls with Fabius JMaximiis, Siicnvtea,
Pythagoras, Pericles, lloratius Cootes, and other
Qreek and Roman worthiea. Other pictures painted
in Perugia are remorkahle for the simplicity, grace,
and dignity, of bis Virgins, the infantine evi*eetneea
of the children and oheriihs, and the earnest, arient
eipression in the beads of his saints.

Perugino, in the very beginning of the sixteenth
century, was certainly the most popular painter of
his time; a circumstance which, considering thai
Raphael, Francia, and Lionardo da Vinci, were ull
working at the same time, would surprieo us, did
10

146 KARLT ITAUAN FAINTEUA.

we not know that contempoTiury popularilf Is i^
gananill; the recompense uf the must dUt'inguUhed
genlua. In fuct, PerugLao boa produced some of
the weakest and worst, a^ well &b some of the moel
piquisite pictuTes in the world. He undertook on
bnmense numher of works, und employed his schol-
us and assinbuita to execute them tiom his deaipia.
A. poa^on, of which perhaps the seeds were sown
in his curlj dajs uf puiertj and miserj, hud taken
poBseesiou of hia soul. Uenos no longer excited to
labor bj a spirit cf piety or the generous aabition
to BKcel, but b; u base and insutiable thiiat for
gain. AIL his late pii'tures, from the yoir 1605 to
hia death , betraj the inSLienceof this meao paasioii.
Ue aimed at nothing bejond mechaDical dexterity,
and to earn his money with as little exfienae of time
and trouble as poseible; he became more and more
feeble, mannered, and monotonous, continually re-
pealing the same figures, actions, and heads, till
his very admireia were wearied ; and on his last
Tiait to Florence, Michael Angelo, who had never
done him justice, pronounced bim, with contempt,
"Goffb ncW arte," that is, a mere bungler; for
«hi;h afiront Pietro summoned him before the
magiatratea, but came off with little honor. Ue
was DO longer what ha bad been. Such was hi*
love of moaey, or such his mistrust uf his fomity,
that when moving from place to place ha carried
hia beloved gold with him ; and being on one ooca
^on robbed of a targn sum, he fell ill, and was lik«

PEBUOINO. 147

to die of grief. It eeeme, however, hardlj coneiet-
BDt with the meOin and aTarlcious spirit imputed Ut
hitu, tliat, having murried a beautiful girl of Peru-
gia, he took groat delight in EeeJng her amijsd, at
home and abroad, in the moat coetly gurmeut*, and
flometiuies drsHeed her with his own hands, To the
reproach of aviuiue — too well founded — some wvit-
etH have added that of irreligion ; nay, two centu-
ries after his death thej showed the spot where he
was buried in uneonsecrated ground under a few
item. Dear Foiitigtumo, he having refused to receive
the la.Bt Ba<!ramenta. Thia accusation hoa heen re-
futed ; and in tratb there is such u divine beauty
in some of the best pictures of Ferugttio, auch ez-
quisiCo purity and tenileniees in hia Madonnas, auah
an eiprt»aioo of antliusioBCio faith and devotion in
some of the heoda, that it would be painful to be-
lieve that there woe no corresponding feeling in his
heart, la one or two of hia pictures lie hod reached
% d^es of aublimitj worthj of him who was tha
master of Raphael, but the instances are few.

In our National Gnllerj there Is a little Madonna
Mid Child by Perugioo. The Virgin is seen half-
l«igth,holdingtheinlunt Christ, who is etaniling in
&ont and grasps in his little hand one of the treasea
of her long, Jiiir hair ; the young St. John ia seen
half-length on the left, looking up with joined
hands. It ia an early picture, painted before hia
Bret residence at Florence and beforo he had made
hia first eesays in oil. It ia very feeble and finijol

148 BARLT ITALIAN PAINTERS.

in the execution, but yerj sweet and simple in the
expression.

In the Louvre at Paris there is a curious allcgor
ical picture by Perugino, representing the Combat
of Love and Chastity ; many figures in a landscape
It seems a late production — feeble and tasteless ;
and the subject is precisely one least adapted to the
painter's style and powers.

In almost every collection on the continent there
are works of Perugino, for he was so popular in his
lifetime that his pictures were as merchandise, and
sold all over Italy.

Pietro Perugino died in 1524. He survived
Raphael four years ; and he may be said, during
the last twenty-five years of his life, to have sur
yived himself.

His scholars were very numerous, but the fame
of all the rest is swallowed up in that of his great
disciple Raphael. Bernardino di Perugia, called
PmruRiccHio, was rather an assistant than a pupil
Be has left some excellent works.

Bora 1*50, aicd isn.

Thers exigted throughont the fourteenth and &l
teenth centuries a sucuosslun of pamtors in Bulugoa,
known in the hiatury of Italian art as the early Bo-
logneBeBchocil, tadistinguiEh it from the /aCff achuol,
which the Carracci founded in the soma oit; — a
lohool altogether dissimilar in spirit and feeling,
IThe chief characteristic of the formor was the fer-
vent piety and derotion of its profesBora. In tha
Kittimenl uf their -vrorka they resembled the Umbri-
Ka Hcliooi, but the manner of exoeution is diiferent.
One of th%e early painters, Lippo (or Filippo) di
Dalmasio, was so celebrated for the beauty of his
Miidonnos, that he obtained the name of Lippo
dalk Madonne. Ha greatly roeemblcd the Frate
Angelico in life and character, bat wa« inferior as
tJi artist. To bis heads of the Virgin he gave an
expression of saintly beauty, purity, and tonder-
nees, which two hundred years later excited the
admiration and ebiulatiun of Guido. Lippo died
about 1409. Passing over some other names, wo
oome to that of the greatest painter of the early
Bologna school, Fiuni.'bsco Raibouni.

(149)

laO EUtLV ITAUAN

n« wu bom in 1450 ; being just Ibac yaut
rouDger tha.a his contempurar; Perugitio. Like
tutny other paintets of that ogu, already mentioDed,
be WBC oducatiid for a goldsmith, and learoed to
dnrign and model correcHj. Franccst^u's niaeter
in the arts of working in gold and niello * was a
Bertain Francia, wIudw oiune, In afiectiouute grati-
tude to hia memory, he aftervrarda adopted, signed
it on hie pictures, and is better known b; it than
bj his own family name. Up to the aga of furty,
FrAncaeoo Fnincib pursued fats avocation uf g<dd-
imith, tmd became celebrated for the excellence of
his workmanBhip in chasing gold and eilver, and
the exquisite beauty and taste of his nielloa. He
ftlao sicuUed in engraviog diee for coins and medals,
uid was apiiointed superintendent of the mint in
his native city of Bologna, whioh office he held till
his death.

We are not told bon the attrition of Froncia ma
first directed to the art of painting. It is said thai
the sight of a beaatiful picture bj Perugitio awak-
ened the dormant talent ; that he learned drawing
f^m Marco Zoppo, one of the numeiouB pupils of
Squarcione, and that for many montha he enter-
tained in his house certain artistsRho initiated him
into the use uf colors, &o. However thia may be,
his earlieat picture is dated 1490', when he WM in
bis fortieth year. It exists at present in the gallarj
•locnn vuoiuii of thg art of WMUDg Id nlallo, ud Ih* tanoltn

IL FIUNCIA. 151

U Bologna, and representa hia favorite sabject, m
ofldn repeated, a, MadoDna uod Child, ontbroned
bM fiurruundod by saiiita and martjra. Thia pin-
tuie, which, if it be B firat produptiun, maj well
be termed woDderful iis well aa beautiful, excited
(0 much admiraticiri, that Giovanni BentiToglio,
then lord of Bologna, desired him to paint an altar-
pace for his family chapel in the church of San
Qiucomo. This second esaay of his powers excited
in the strongest degree the dithusiuBm of hia fclIoW'
citizens. The people of BologiMV were distinguished
Among the other staCee of Italy for their patron^a
of native talent ; they now csultiid in having pro-
duced an artist who might vie with those of Flor-
ence, or Perugia, or Venice.

The vocation of Francia was henceforth doter»
mined. Ue abandoned bia former employment of
goldsmith and nitJlO'Workar, and becanie a paintra
by choice and by profeasion. During the nest toi
years be improved progreeeively in composition and
in oolor, still retaining the aimpio and beautifiil
Wntiment whiah hod Irom the flrst diatinguished
his works. His earliest pictures are in oil; but
hia Buccasa encouraged hiin to attempt frwt-o, and
in this style, which requireil a grandeur of concep-
tion ana a breadth awl rapidity of esocution for
which hia laborious and diminutive works in gold
and niello could never have pri'pared his mind or
Hand, be appeara to have succeeded at once. II«
vu first eitployed by Bentivogllo to decorate out

ibi

KAJtLV ITiUAN PAl^TBIU.

P

or tho ohumbers in his paUce with tlie storj ot
Judith an<l IIolofurMas ; and he tkfterwards aiccated
in the chap«l of St. Cecilia a series of frescoes from
the legend of tbut saint. "The com position,"
■&^ Kugler, " is eitremelir simple, wiifaoat any
eup«rlluuu8 Eguru« ; the action dramnlio and well
coQCoiTad. Wo have hero the most nobb figures,
the most beautiful and graoeTul heads, a pure tasM
in the drapcrj, and niasterlj backgrounds." 11
should seem tliat the merits here enumerated in.
elude all that constitutes perfection. Unbappilj,
thew fine specimons of Francia's art are &lling into
ruin and dscaj.

The style of Francia at his best peiiod is verj
distinct Irom that of Petugiuo, whom he reeemblee,
however, so for as to show that the pictures of tl:e
latter were the firat ubjects of his emulation and
imitation. In the works of Perugino there ie a
melaneholj verging fretjuently on sourneag and
horshnen, or fading into insipidity. Francin, In
his richer and deeper coloring, his ampler forms,
and the cheerful, hopeful, afiectionate expression in
liis heads, reminds us of the Venetian school.

His celobritj in a abort period had extended
through the whole of Lombnrdy. Not only his
native city, but Parma, Modona, Cesena, and Fer-
rara, were emulous to possess his works. Even
Tuscany, so rich in painters of her own, liad
heard of Francin. The beautiful altnr-pioce whict
has enriched our Nutimial Gallery since the year

IL FUANCIA. 153

1841 tctis painted at the deeire of a nobleman of

This altar-piece is compoaed of two eeparate pio-
tuies. The larger cumpartment cantoins eight
Ggurefi Tatber less than life. In the centre on a
raised throne ore seated the Virgin and her mother
St. Anne. The Virgin la attired in a, red tunic, and
a dork blue mantle, which ia drawn otbt the head.
She holds in her lap the Infant Christ, to wbom St.
Anne ia presenting a peach. The expression of the
Virgin is exveedinglj pure, calm, and saintly, yet
without the ecmph-like reGnemont wliich we see in
Borne of Raphael's Madonnas. The bead of t)ie aged
St. Anne is simply dignified and maternal. At tha
foot of the throne stands the little St. John, hold-
ing in his arms the cross of roeds and the scroll
Inacribed " Eece Agnus Dei " {Behold the Lamb of
God!) On each side of the throne are two saints.
To the right of the Virgin stands St. Paul, holding
a swon], the instrument of bis martyrdom ; and St,
Sebastian bound to a pillar and pierced with arrowp.
On the left, St. Lawrence with the emblomatiual
gridiron and palm-branch, and another saint, prob-
ably St. Frediano. Tlie heads of these saints want
elevation of form, the bniw in all being rather low
ftnd narrow ; but the prevailing expression is simple,
aficctiunate, devout, full of faith and hope. The
background is formed of two open arches adorned
with sculpture, the blue sky beyond ; and lower
donn, between St. Paul and St. Sebaatian, is seen

^

« glimpu of a Ifenutiful landscape. The draperiei

ara grand luiil ample ; tho coloriDg, rich and warm ;
the Mwution, most BnUhed id every purt. Od th«
eoraliMuf the mUed throne, or pedestui, is inscribed
Fu.vdA iCRiFKi BoNONiESBis P. (tlittt i«, imubod
bj FriLDcia, giildBmith of Bologna), but no date
It iDenaurea six faetanda half high bj six f«et wida.

Over thi< square picture vita placed the lunette,
or arch, which dow bangs on the opposite lide of
the room- It repressnls the subject called iu Italian
» Pielii, — the Dead Redeemer supported on tbo
knees uf the Virgm mother. An angel elotlied in
green drapery supports the drooping hood of the
Saviour. Another angel in red draper; koeeU at
hia feel. Grief in tbofiuie of the Burrowing mother
— in the countenaneas of the angsls revorantial
tiirruw and pi^ — are most admirably expre^ed.

This altar-piece waa painted bj Francla about
thejear 1500, for the Marchesa BuonviBi of Lucca,
and placed in the chapel of the BuonTisi family, in
the ohurahofSiut Frcidiano. It remained there till
lately purobosed by t)ie Duke of Luciui, n-ho sent it
with other pictoras to lie disposed of in England.
Tho two pieoM n-ere valued at four thousand
pounds; atler some negotiation, our govurnmeDi
obtninod them for the National Gallery at tha
price of thre« thousand five hundred piiiinds.

The works of Francia were, until lately, conlined
to the ohurobee of Bologna and other citiee of
Lonbardy ; now they are to be found in oil Uu

1

155

great eolIectionB of Europe, that of tho Louvre eX'
mptei), which does not coatain a eiagle BpeuimeD
Tho Biilogna Gallerjr oontainB eix, the Berlin Mu
Kom three, uf his pictures.* In the Florentine
Gsllery is an admirable portrait of a man holding
a letter in his hand. In the Imperial Gallery at
Vienna there is a inoet esquiaite altar-piece, tho
Bams size and style as the one in the National
Gallery, hat Htill mere heautiful and poetical. The
Virgin and Child i;re seated un the throne in thi
midst of a charming landscape ; St. Francis stand-
ing on one ude, and St. Catherine on the other
The Oallerj at Munich contitina a picture by him
perhaps the moat charming he ever painted. It
MpresentB the Infant Savionr lying on the grasa
unid roses and Bowers ; the Virgin stands before
him, looking down with clasped hands, and in an
•cstaay of love and devotion, on her divine Son
The figures are rather lees that life. A small but
very beautiful picture by Francia, a Madonna and
Child, is DOW in tho possession of Mr. Frankland

It is pleasant to be aeaured that the life and cbar-
•cter of Francia were in harmony with hie genioe.
Vasari describes him as a man of comely aspect, of
Memplurj moraia, of amiable and cheerful mait-
Dera ; in conversation so witty, so wise, and ea
Agreeable, that in di&Miurse with him the saddest
• Oue Df tbew (Nv. SiSi ii % npUlUoD of Uh Fletl \m DU

i56

EAKLY ITAUAN

I

I

miui vioaW hATe Edt Lis melanoholj disaipatad, hit
cores forgotten ; adding tbut he vae loved and van
wated not odIj bj his fomilj and fcllovr-citizens,
but by Btrangera and the princes in whoaa servioa
be WM employed. A most intereeting circiUDstanre
in the lift) of Fniuciawua hia Mendahip and corns
pondence with the youthful Ruphaal, who wat
thir^-four yearE younger than hiniself. There u
extant a letter which Eaphael addreaed to Francia
In the year I5D8. In this letter, which is eipressed
with eiceedbg kindneea and deference, RuphiiQl
excuscB himBelf for not Laving painted his own
portrait fur hie friend, and promisee to send it soon.
Be prceania him with bis deeiga for the Nativity,
and reqiissts to have in return Francia's design for
the Judith,* to be placed among his moat pteciouB
traaaures ; be alludes, but discreetly, to tbe griet
which Franoia must have felt when his patron
Bentivoglio was exiled from Bologna by Pope
JuUua 11., and he concludaa, affectionately, " Con-
tinue to love me oa I love you, with all my heart."
Baphwil afterwurda, according to his promise, sent
his portrait to his &iend, aud Francia addressed
to bim a very pretty sonnet, in which he styles
him, na if prophetically, the " painter above all
paintors: "

" To aolo il Pittor bbi de' Pittori."

About the year 1516 Raphael aent to Bologna
• This dnivirg 1b hIiI lo fiIbI tn ihn mUmUiui of Uie Arobdnlu
Otaaxln, a,l \ ieaaa. e« FiwvuiU

n. PRANCIA. 157

his &mouB pictara of the St Cooiliii, surrounded
by other Salute, which had Veen mmand d bj a
lodj of the hDuae of Bent Ltd ate the
jhurch of St. Cecilia, the Bf m h la which
Prancia had painted the fresc al ead m ntioned,
Rupboel, in a modest anl affe t ut I tter, rec-
ommended the picture t tl e ca e t h friend
Francia, entreating him to be preaent when the
caee waa opened, tu repair any injury it might have
rOBBired in the carriage, and to correct anything
which seemed to him faul^ in the execution.
Francia xealouslj fulfilled hla wishes ; and when he
beheld this masterpiece of the dirinest of painterSj
burst into transports of admiration and delight,
placing it far above alt that he liad tiimself accom-
plished. As he died a short time afterwards, it
was said that he had sickened of envy and despair
on seeing himself thus excelled, and in hia native
city his best works eclipsed by a young rival.
Vasari tells this story as u tradition of bis own
time; bis exproBsion h " come alcuni credono" (as
eome believe) ; but it rests on no other evidence,
And is BD contrary to all we know of the gentle and
generous spirit of Francia, and so inconsietent witli
the sentiments which for many years ho had cher-
ished and avowed for Raphael, that we may set it
aaide as unworthy of all belief. The date of
Fiancla's death bos been a matter of dispute ; but
it appears certain, from state documents lately dis-
ecvered at Bologna, that he died Master of theMint

158 BASLT IXAUAN PAINTKS8

in that city, on the 6th of January, 1517, being
then in his sixty-eighth year. His scm Giacomo
became an esteemed painter in his father's style.
In the Berlin Gallery there are six pictures by his
hand ; and one by Giulio Franoia, a cousin and
pupil of the elder Francia.

ITBA BAKTOLOMEO,
DELLA PORTA ,

Beforb -we enter on the golden age of painting,
— that EpUniiid era whicli crowded into a 1:)rief
qnfirter of a centur; (between 1505 and 1530) the
greatest names and moat consummate productionH
of the art, — we must spealt of one more painter,
justly celebrated. Peniginu and Francia (of whom
w have Epokeo at length) and Fiu Bahtoloueo,
if whom we are now to speak, ware still liilng at
this period ; but they belonged to & previoua aga,
and were informed, as wo sliall show, bj a wholly
difiarent Bpirit. They contributed in some degree
to the perfection of their great contemporaries and
HQcceBBors, but they owed the sentiment which in-
spired their own worics to inSiiences quite distinct
from those which prevailed during the next half-
century. The loet of these elder painters of the
first Italian school was Fra Bartolomeo.

He was born in the little town of Savignano, in

the territory of Prato, near Floranee. Of his family

little is known, and of his yoanger years nothing,

but that, baring Bfaown a disposition to the art o/

(159)

160 XABLT ITAUAN PAINTERS

design, he was placed ander the tuition of Gosimc
Roselli, a very good Florentine painter ; and that
while receiving his instructionB he resided with
some relations who dwelt near one of the gates of
the citj (La Porta San Piero). Hence, for the first
thirty years of his life, he was known among his
companions by the name of Baccio della Porta ;
Baccio being the Tuscan diminutive of Bartolomeo.
While studying in the atelier of Cosimo Koselli.
Bacci J formed a friendship with Mariotto Albert!-
nelli, a young painter about his own age. It was
on both sides an attachment almost fraternal.
They painted together, sometimes on the same pic^
ture, and in style and sentiment were so similai
that it has become difficult to distinguish theix
works. Baccio was, however, more particularly
distinguished by his feeling for softness and har
mony of color, and the tender and devout ex
pression of his religious pictures. From his earli-
est years he appears to have been a religious enthu
siast ; and this turn of mind not only characterized
all the productions Of his pencil, but involved him
in a singular manner with some of the most remark-
able events and characters of his time.

Lorenzo de' Medici, called Lorenzo the Mag-
nificent, was then master of the liberties of Flor-
ence. The revival of classical learning, the study
of the antique sculptures (diffused, as we have re-
lated, by the school of Padua, and rendered still
more a fashion by the influence and popularity o'

tRL DARTOIXIMEO. 161

Andrea Mantegnii, already old, and Micbael An-
gelo, then a young man), waa rapidly corrupting
the simple and piouB iaata which had hithertu pre-
Tailed in art, even while imparting to it a mora
universal direction, and a finer feiQiog fur beauty
And Hnblimity in the abstract. At the eame time,
and encouraged for their own purposes by the
Medici &uiily, there prevailed with this })agan
taste in literature and art a general laxity of
morals, a license of conduct, and a disregard of all
cacred things, such as had never, even in the dark<
eat agea of barbarism, been known In Italy. The
papal chair was during that period filled l>y two
popes, the perfidious and cruel Sixtus IV., and the
yet more detestable Aleiander VI, (the infamouB
Borgia). Florence, meaatime, under the away of
IiOren!:o and his sons, became one of the mnut
magnificent, but also one of the most dissolute of

The natural taste and character of Bartolomeo
placed him far from this luxurious and licentioua
oonrt ; but he had acquired great reputation by
the exquisite beauty and tenderness of his Madon-
nas, and he was employed by the Dominicans of
tlie convent of St. Mark to paint a fresco in their
ohurcb representing the Lost Judgment. At this
time Savonarola, an eloquent friar in the convent,
was preaching against the disorders of the times,
the luxury of the nobles, the usurpation of the
Medici, and the vices of the popes, with a fearless
II

I

I
I

162 EA&M ITALIAN FAINTGR8.

ferror uid idoquenoe which his hearera atd bimMlf
BUBtoolc for direct inspiration from lieuvcn. Tht
influence of tbi« extraordinKrr tnoin increased AttDj,
»nd rUDung hie most devoted admirers and dieciplw
WM Bartolomeo. Id a fit of perpIeiiCf and re-
morse, caused bjoQ eloquent sermoDuf Savonarola,
he joined with miLnj otben in makiog a d&cnGae
of ail (ho books and picturee which related to
heathen poetry and art on which tfae^ caald laj
their hands. Into this funeral pjre, wbich waa
kindled in sight of the people in one of tlie prin-
cipal strsBta of Florence, Baitolomeo flung all IhoBe
of hifl deeigDs, drawings, and studies, which repre-
Mnted eitlier prufane subjects or the human figorq
undraped, and he almost wholly abandoned the
pnictioe of his art fur the society of bis friend and
spiritual pastor. But the talents, the enthusiaam,
the popularity of Savonarola, had marked him fur
destruction. Ue was excommunicated by the pope
tot haresy, denounced by the Medici, and at longlb
forsaken bj the Gckle people wlio bad followed,
obeyed, almost adored him aa a eaint. Bartolomeo
happened to be lodged b the convent of St. Mark
when it was attacked by the rabble and a party of
nobles. The partisans of Savonarola were massa-
ered, and Savonarola himself carried off to tortur«
and to death. Our pious and eieellent painter wat
not remarkable for courage. Terrified by tbs
tninult and horrors around him, he hid himself
TOwing, if he escaped the danger, to dedicate htn

tSA BABIOLOUEO.

163

■df to a leligioua life. Witbin a few woeks Um
unliappj Savonarolii, aHor suSeriDg tlie tortuTe
was publiul; buroed In the Grand Piasza of Flar-
anoe ; and Bartolomeo, atruck with horror at the
Gite of hia friend, — a horror ivhioh eaamed to
pikniljEe all hit &ica\iim, — took the von-a nod be-
came a Dominican friar, leiiTing to bis friend Albor-
tinelli the taak of completing those of hia freacoea
and picturiis which were left unfniahed.

He passed the tiett four years of hia life without
touching a poncU, In the austere aeclusion of his
eoDvsnt. At the eud of this period the entreaties
knd commands of his Superior induced Bartolomeo
tc resume the practiire of hia art, and from thia
time lie ia known as Fra Bartolumeo di San Marco,
and by many writers he is styled simply II Frata
(the Fnar) ; in Italy he is scarcely known by aoj
other deelgnation.

Timid by nature, and tormented by religiana
aeruplea, he at first returned to his easet with las'
^lar and reluctance; but an incident oecurrad
which reawakened all his genius and enthuaioam.
Toung Raphael, then in his twontj-flrst ;^ear,
and already celebrated, arrived in Florence. He
visited the Frate in his cell, and between these kin-
dred Epirlts a friendship ensued which ended only
with death, and to whicn we partly owe the finest
Torksof both. Raphael, who waa a perfect niaste»
}f perspective, instructed his friend in the mora
Aomplicaled rules of the science, and Fra Bartolo'

I

l64 £AJtLI ITAI.

meo in return iDitiatod Baphocl into some of hit
metbods of coloring.

It wiLS not, hoivever, in the merelj mechanical
pToccfisue ur art that these two grent paintore owed
most to each other. It is evident, on esatniiiing
Iiis works, tlmt Fra Bartolomeo's greatest improve-
ment dotBB from hia aH(uaintanoe with Raphael ;
tliat ttia pictures IVom this time displaymore energy
of o-tprsffiion — a more inMllectual grace: while
Baphael imitated his friend in the softec blending
of bis colors, and li^rned from him the art of ar-
ranging draperies in an ampler and nobler stjlo
than he hod hitherto practised ; in fact, he hud just
at this time caught the sentiment and manner of
Bartolomeo so completely, that the onlj groat work
ha executed at Florence (the Madonna del Boldo-
ehino,in thePalazzoPitti)niightbeatthefirstglanc«
mistaken for a composition of the Frate. RiG)]ar<]-
Bon, on excellent writer and first-rate author!^,
observes that " at this time Fra Bartolomeo saems
to have been the greater man, and might have been
ihe Kaphael, had not Fortune been determined in
&vor of the other." It is not, however, Fortune
alone which determines these things ; and of Raphael
we might «aj, us Constance said of her eon, that
"at his birth Nature and Fortune joined to make
him great," Cut this is digreasing, and we must
now return to the personal bistorj of the Frate.

About the year 1513 Bartoh>meo obtamed leave
»f the Superior of hie convent to visit Eome H«

nu BAllTOLOllIO. 165

had lisard ho much of the grand works on wiiich
Baphad and Miuhael Angiilo were ompluyul bj
Leo X., that he could no lunger rcprosa the wish to
behold and judge with his own eyes these wondur*
ful productiuns. Ha woii also engaged to puint in
(he (horch of St. Sylvester, on Monta Cavallo But
the uir of Rome did not agree with hiiu. lie, in-
deed, renewed hia friendship with Raphael, and
they spent many hours and days in each uther's
saciety ; but Raphael hod by tliis time ho far out-
run him in every kind of excellence, and what ha
eaw around him in the Vaticun and in the Sistine
Chapel so far surpassed his previous canceptions,
that admiration and oatonishmont seemed to swal-
low up the feeling of emulation. There was no
envy in his gentle and pious mind ; but he could not
piint, he could not apply himself. A cloud fell
ipon his spirits, which was attributed partly to
indisposition ; and ha returned to FloreDce, leaving
at Rome only two unfinished pictures — figures of
St. Peter and St. Paul, which Raphael undertook to
finish for htm, and, in the midst of his own great
Knd multifarious works, found time to complete.
It is said that while Raphael was painting on thft
head of St. Peter, two of his friends, who were car-
dinaht, and not remarkable far the sanctity of their
lives, stood conversing with him, and thought
either to compliment him, or perhaps rsuse him to
oontradicUoa, hy criticizing the work of Bartolo-
meo. One of them observed that the coloring wbj

)

166 KABM ITil.

mach too red. To which Raphael replied, with thai
gTELcoful gHjRtj wiiioh Uunts the edge tf a tax
caam, " Maj it pleoga jour EmiiieDcu, the holj
apoetle here represented is blushing in hoaveti, m
be csrtaiulT would do were he now preeent, to
behuld the cborch he fuunded on eurth goTemed b;
Mich aa joul "

Od retruming to Florence, Fra B&rtutonjeo to-
■umed his pencil, and. showed that hia journej to
Home hud nut boeii in vain. Ilia Jineet works, the
St. Murk, now in the Pitti PaUue, and the &niona
Madoona di Misericordia at Lucca, were eiacuted
after his return. Evecj picture aubeequentlj
painted displayed increasing vigor ; and be was still
in the full poBsemion of his powers when he waa
•eized with a fever and dysenteTjicaused, it is said,
b; eating too many Hgs, and died in hb coavent,
October 8, 1517, being then in hie fortjr-eigbth
ywr.

The personal character of Fra Bartulomeo ia im-
prcssad on all his works. Be was deficient, as wa
have seen, in physical counige and energy ; but in
bis disposition entbuslaBlio, devout, and affection-
ate. TendernesB and a soft regular beauty charac-
terize his female heads ; his mints have a mild and
■eriouB dignity, lie ia very seldom grand or lub-
lima in concoptioti, or energetic in movement and
exproBsion ; the pervading sentiment in all hie best
pictures is holineit. lie particularly excelled id
the Qgurea of boy .angels, whieh he introduced into

F»* BIBTOLOMEO. 167

nost of hiB groapB, somiitimea plnj ng on utuii-
cal inatrumeate, Beiitei] at the feet of the Virgin, or
beiiring a, canopj over her head, but, hcwever em-
ployed, alwnjB full of in fiin tine grace and candor.
He is also famed for tlie rich architecture be intro-
duced into his picturee, and for the grand and
flowing Btjla of his draperies. It wiu his opinion
that everj object should bo painted, if poEwble,
from nature ; and, for the better studj and arrange'
rnent of the drapery, he invented thoae wooden
figures with joints (called laj-figuies) which are
now to be found in the studio of every painter, and
which have bwa of incalculable service in art.

His pictmea are not commonly met witb. Lucca,
Floreaue, and Vienna, poseees the three finest.

The first of theae, at Locca, is perhaps tbe most
important of all liis works. It is caLod tlio Ma-
donna dulia Misericordia, and roprosenta the Virgin,
a grand and beautiful figure, standing on a raised
platform witb outstretched anna, pleading for
mercy fur mankind; aroiind her are groups of sup-
pliants, who look up to bei as i/tc looks up to
heaven, where, throned in judgment, is seen her
divine Son. Wilkie, in one of bia letters from
Italy (1827), dwella upon the beauty of this nobis
picture, and says that it combines the merits of
Raphael, of Titian, of Rembrandt, and ofBubei.al
'* Hare," he aaje, " a monk in the retirement of
his cloister, shut out from the taunta and criticism
af tbe world, seems to have anticipated in his early

time all Chat Lis art could luriva at in its most ad-
ninced uuituritj ; and this he has beea able to do
without the usual blundishmenta of tLa mors rocent
periods, and with all the higher qualitiea peculiar
to the age in which ho livsd." •

This is tot; high praise, porticuliu); from such a
nan as Wilkie. The mem outline engraviag in
Roslni's "Storia dalla Pittura"' will show the
beautj of the compOBitian ; and the ledtimony of
Wilkia with r^ard to the magical coloring is suf-
JScieut.

Tha St. Mark in the Pitti Palace is a aingle
figure, seated, and holding bis Gospel in his hand.
It is so remarkable for its grandeur and slmplJcil^
M to have been frequeutl; compared with the re-
mains of Grecian art. For this pictnre a GniQil-
Duke of Tuecanj (Ferdinand n.) paid twelve hun-
dred pounds, nearly two hundred years ago; which,
according to the present value of money, would be
equal to about three thousand pounds.

In the Imperial Gallery at Vienna is the Present-
ation in the Temple, a picture of wonderful digni^
and beauty, and well known by the fine engravings
which exist of it. The figures are rather less than
life.

In the Louvre at Pariaara two very fine pictures:
tt Madonna enthroned, with several figures, life-
size, wliich was painted as an altar-piece for his
own convent of St. Mark, and afterwards sent as i
• UkiK&ir Didd Wilkle, vol. a., f. Ul.

F&A BABTOLOMEO. 109

present to Francis I. ; the other is an Annuncia-
tion.

In the Grosvenor Gallery there is a divine little
picture, in which the Infant Christ is represented
reclining on the lap of the Virgin, and holding the
cross, which the joung St. John, stretching forth
his arms, appears anxious to take from him.

The Berlin Gallery contains only one of his pio
turcs ; the Dresden Gallery, not one. His works are
beet studied in his native city of Florence, to which
they are chiefly confined.

Fra Bartolomeo had several scholars, none of
whom were distinguished, except a nun of the mon-
astery of St. Catherine, known as Suor Plautilla,
who very successfully imitated his style, and hu
Uft some beautiful pictures.

LIONARDO DA VINCI.

Bofn 1462, dtod U19.

Wb now approach the period when the art ol
painting reached its highest perfection, whetheor
considered with reference to poetry of conception
or the mechanical means through which these con-
ceptions were embodied in the noblest forms. With-
in a short period of about thirty years, that is, be*
tween 1490 and 1520, the greatest painters whom
the world has yet seen were living and working
together. On looking back, we cannot but feel that
the excellence they attained was the result of the
efforts and aspirations of a preceding age ; and yet
these men were so great in their vocation, and so
individual in their greatness, that, losing sight of
the linked chain of progress, they seemed at first to
have had no precursors, as they have since had no
peers. Though living at the same time, and most
of them in personal relation with each other, the
direction of each mind was different — was pecu-
liar ; though exercising in some sort a reciprocal
influence, this influence never interfered with the
most decided originality. These wonderful artists
who would have been remarkable men in their time

(170>

I

LIONABnO DA VIMCL 171

ihoDgh thej hud never touebed a pencil, were Li'
oniLido da Vinci, Micbaol Angelo, Raphael, Correg-
giu, Ciorgiune, Tilian, in Itulj ; and in Germany,
Albert Durer. Of those wen, we miglit eay, aa of
UuniBr and Sbakspeure, that thej belong tu nu par-
ticular age ur countrj, but tu all time, and to the
universe. Tltut the; Quuiiahed together within one
brief and briUiunt period, and that ea«h carried out
to the highest degree of perfuctiuu bis own peculiar
aims, was no caaualty ; nor are we to aeek for the
cauees of tliis aiirpaasing excellence merelj in the
iiiator; of the art as such. The cauEes laj far
deeper, and must be referred to the history of
human culture. The feriaenting activity of the
fifteenth century found its results in the extraur-
dioarj development of human intelligence in the
oommoucement of the sixteenth century. We often
hear in these days of " the spirit of the age; " but
im that wonderful age three mighty spirita were
stirring society tu its depths : — the spirit of hold
jnveatigation into truths of all kinds, which lad to
the Reformation ; the spirit of during adventure,
which led men in search of new worlds beyond the
•astern and the westein oceans ; and the i^pirit of
art, through which men soared even to the " seventh
heaven of invention."

Lionardo da Vinci seems to present in his own
person a ri^ums of all the character istiuH of the
age in which he lived. He was the miracle of thai
Age of wracles. Ardent and Tersatile as youth i

i7a

K^LV IT A) JAN PAINT£ES.

patioDt and persevering ae aga ; a most profomid
and original thinker j iJie greatest matliemtiticiaii
and most ingenioua mecluuiic of his time ; architect
chemist^ engineer, muiiciiin, puet, painter! — wo
axe not only astounded b; tlie rarietj of his natural
gifU and acquired knowledge, but bj tiie prauti-
oal direction of his amasing powers.* The estracta
whiuh have been published from MSS. now existing
in his own handwriting show him to have antici-
pated, bj the force of his own intellect, some of the
greatest discoveriua made since his time. These
Iragmunts, eajs Jlr. Hallam,i- " are, according to
our oommou estimate uf the age in which he lived,
more like revelatii^ua of phjaical truths vouchsafed
to a single mind, than the euperstructure of ita
reasoning upon an; eatubliahed basis. The dls-
SDveriee which made Galileo, Kepler, Castelli, and
other names illuBtrioiiE — the fijBtem of Cupernicua
— the very thourias of recent geologists, are antioi-
pated by Da Vinci within the cotnpasa of a few
pages, not perhaps in the nost precise language,
or on the most conclusive reasoning, but so as to
ilrike us with something like the awe of preter-
natural knowledge. In an age of so much dog-

"Blilnrr oFUk laKntBreaF Eiuope.

LIOKASIH] DA 1

rlnatiBm, he liiBt laid down the gnind piljclple of
BacoD, that experimeDt and ubservation must he
the guidea to juat thaorj in tho iuvestigation ol
Datura, If any doubt [K>uld be harbored, not oa to
tha right of Lionardo da Vinci to etnnd as the first
name of the fiftflenth century, -vrhich ie beyond all
doubt,* but as to Mb originality in ao many diacov-
Briea, wliich probably no one man, especially in such
oirunmatances, has ever made, it muBt be by an
hypotliesia not Terj untenable, that eonie parts of
phyaical aeienoo had already attained a height
which mere booka do not record."

It seemB at Erst sight almoat incomprshenGible
that, thuH endowed aa a philosopher, mechanic,
inventor, diacoTerer, the fumo of Lionardo should
DOW leat on the worlia he baa left as a painter.
Wfl cannot, within these limits, attempt to explain
why and how it ia that aa the man of acience he baa
bean naturally and necessarily left behind by the
onward njaroh of intellectual prugrosa, while as the
poet-painter ho atill survives oa a presence and a
power. We must proceed at once to give aome
account of him in the character in which ha eiiats
to us and for us — tbat of the great artist.

Lionardo was born at Vinci, near Florence, in
the Lower Val d'Arnu, on the borders of the terri-
tory of Pietoia. Ilia father, Piero da Tinci, was

174 KABLT HAUAN PAIMTXBS.

an advocate of Florence — not rich, but in ind*-
pendent circumstances, and possessed of estates in
land. The singular talents of bis son mduced Piero
to give bim, from an early age, tbe advantage of tbe
best instructors. As a cbild, be distinguished bim-
■elf bj his proficiency in arithmetic and mathe-
matics. Music he studied earlj, as a science as
well as an art. He invented a species of lyre for
himself, and sung bis own poetical compositions to
his own music — both being frequently extempon^
neons. But his favorite pursuit was the art of
design in all its branches ; he modelled in clay or
wax, or attempted to draw every object which struck
his f&ncj. His father sent him to study under An-
drea Verrocchio (of whom we have already given
some account),* famous as a sculptor, chaser in
metal, and painter. Andrea, who was an excellent
and correct designer, but a bad and hard colorist,
was soon after engaged to paint a picture of the
Baptism of our Saviour. He employed Lionardo,
then a youth, to execute one of the angels. This
he did with so much softness and richness of color
that it far surpassed the rest of the picture ; and
Veroccbio from that time threw away his palette,
and confined himself wholly to his works in sculp-
ture and design ; <* enraged," says Yasari, ** that
a child should thus excel him." f

• See p. 111.

t This picture is now preserred in the Academy at Florenoe. Thi
int angel on the right is that which was painted bj lionardo.

I

LI0NAS1K1 DA TINCI. I'b

^8 jouth of lionardo tlius possod iin-aj in the
punult of science and of art. Sometimes bo wua
deoplj engagud in astronuiuiciil calaulutions and
iarestigaitionB ; Bometimes ardent in tlie etudj of
naturul history, botanj', and unittomj ; BometimM
intent on new effoctB of color, light, shadow, or
eipresEion, in repreaeDting objecta animate or inun-
imate. Versatile, ;et persevering, he varied hit
puraoitB, but he never abandoned any. Ue was
qaite a young man when be uonaeived and demon-
gtrated the practicability of two magnificent proj-
ects. One was, to lift the wliole of the church of
Ban Lorenzo, by means of ImmenBe levers, some feet
higher than it now stands, and thus supply the deG-
eioit elevation ;* the other projoct woa, to forni the
Amo into a navigable canal, ax far as Piss, wliiidi
would bare added greatly to the commercial advao-
logM of Florence .f

It happened ubout this time that a peasant on
the eetftte of Piero da Vinci brought him a circular
piece of wood, cut horizootally from the trimk of a
Tary large old fig-tree, which had been lately felled,
and begged to have something painted on it aa an
ornament for his oottnge. The man being nn espe-
aial favorite, Piero desired his son Lionurdo to grat-

• WDd u Ibis

prfljBil..

aat ha.

lap«ulMe. I,

dorland Usbt-bouj

aDB,ind

to k dialann df mi

I

176 B1RI.T ITALIAN

ifj bis ivqiiest ; aod Lionardo, inapired by th&t
lrililne» uf ikncj which was ooa of hie character-
istics, took the panel into hia own loora, and re-
■oliei] to astonish hie (atbei bj a most unluokod-for
proof of hia art. He determined to compose sotun
thiog which should have an eSect similar to that i>?
tha Mednaa on the shield of Peraeita. aod almost
petrifj baliolders. Aided bj his recent atudiis in
natural history, he collected together (ram tbs
□eigliburing Bwam|i« and the rirer-mud all kinds
of hideous reptilea, as oddara, lizards, toads, ser-
pentc ; inseute, as motha, locusts ; and ot)jar crawU
ing and %iog, obscene and obnozioua things: and
out of these be compoundod a sort of monst^, or
ohimoru, vhich he represented aa about to inue
from the shield, with eyes flashing lire, and of an
upeot BO fearrul and abominable that it seemed to
infect the very air around. When finished, he led
his father into the room in which it was placed,
and the terror and horror of Piero proved the suo-
oen of his attempt. This production, afterwords
known aa the Floletlo del Fico,* from the inaterial
on which it was painted, was sold by Pioro secretly
for one hundred ducata, to a, mercliant, who carried
it to Milan, and sold it to the duke for three hun-
dred. To the poor peasant thus cheated of hia
Rotello, Piero gave a wooden ahiold, on which was
{wint«d a heart tranaSxed by a dart ; a. device bel-
ter Buited to bis taste and comprehension. In tbi
• SattUt EWUU B ihltld « bucklu > Fiee, a Bf-lisa.

UONiBBO DA YINCI. 177

■nbgequent troubles of Milno, Lianardo'i pictur*
disappeared, and wbb probably deetrujed, as aa
object of horror, by those who did not underEtiviid
ita Ttilue M a, work of art.

The anomailoiiB monBter rflpTseented on the Ho-
teUo was wholly different from the Meduaa, after-
WEirds puintcd bj Lionnrdo,aDd dow existing in the
Florence Gallery. It repreBenta the Beyored head of
Medasa, seen foreshortened, lying on a fragment of
cook. The features are beautiful and regular ; ths
hair alnouiy metomorphoBed into serpents —

" whioh Burl and Sott,
And their long tanglaa in enoli uther look.
And nith nn^aJing iiivolutlona show
Their Lnailed ladiftnoa."

'fhose who ham once seen this terrible and faficinat-
iag picture can never forget it. The ghaatlj head
MemB to expire, and the serpents to crawl into glit-
tering life, as we look upon it.

During this first period of his life, which was
wholly paaaed in Florence and i\a neighborhood,
Lionardo painted several other pictunM, of a very
difierent uhuracter, and designed some beautiful
cartoons of sacred and mythological subjects, which
ihowed that his sense of the beautiful, the elevated,
and the graceful, was not less a part of hia mind,
diui that eccentricity and almost perversion of
fiuu^ which made him delight in aketohing ugly.
12

I79 EARLT nj-LIAN PAIMTEItB.

(Kftgginated Nuicatum, and repTMeating tbo da-
formed and tbe lorrible.

tionnrdu dn Vinci was now about thirt; yean
old, in the primB of his lifa and talents. Ills taste
for plaHsureand eipenM waa, howerer, equal to his
ganiuR and indefatiguhle industrj ; and, anxioiia to
■ecura a certain prurieion for the future, as well
M a wider field for the eierciee of liia vnrioun
talents, he acaep[«d the invitation uf Luduvico
Sforza il Moro, then r^ent, anerwards Duke of
Milun, to roside in his court, and to execute a ;«
loBsal equestrian statue of his ancestur Fmnco^Mi
Sforza, Here begins the second period of his urtia-
tic career, which includw his sojourn at Milan,
that ie, from 1483 to 1499.

Yasari says that Lionardo was invited to the
oourt of Milan for the Duke Ludovioo's auiusement,
" as a muiician and performer on the Ijre, and as
the greatest singer and improcisalare of his time i "
but this is improbable. Lionardo, in his long
letter to that prince, in which he recites hie own
qualifications fur employment, dwells chiefly on his
skill in enginaaring and fortification, and sums op
bis pretensions ns an artist in these few brief words ;
" I understand the different modes of sculpture in
marble, bronze, and tM-ra-cotta. In painting, also,
I may esteem myself equal to any one, let him be
who he may." Of his musical talents he makes ne
inentioa whatever, though undoubtedly these, at
Well as his other social accomplishm^itB. his hand

' UONARDO DA VINCI. tT)

•amfl person, his wmning address, his \nt and elo-
quence, recoin mended him to the notice of thi
prinee, by whom he was greatly beloved, and in
whuae serTice be remained for about Berenteer
years. It is not neceeaary, nor would it be [>o«Eibl«
here, to give a pactioiilftr account of all the worlo
in which Lionardo waa engaged for his patron,'
nor of the great political events in which he wai
involved, more by bis position than by his inclioa-
tion 1 for instance, the invasion of Italy by Charlei
Till, of Fmnce, and the subsequent invwion of
Uilan by Louis XII., whiob ended in the destruc-
tion of the Duke Ludovico. We shal! only men-
tion a few of the pictures be executed. One of
these, the portrait of Lucresia Crivelli, is noTrin
the Louvre (No. 1091). Another was the Nativity
of our Saviour, in the imperial collection at Vienna ;
but the greatest work of all, and by far the grand>
est picture which, up to that time, had been eio.
outed in Italy, was the Last Supper, painted on the
wall of the refectory, or dining-room, of the Do-
minican uom'ent of the Madonna delle Grazie. It
oocupied the painter about two years. Of this
magnificent creation of art only the mouldering
remains are now visible. It has bean so often
repaired, that almost every vestige of the original
Dftinting is aooihilated ; but, from the multiplicity

p

of ileaori't.tiiiiu, engmvinga, and oopiee that oxwt
DO picture is moro imiverBall; known and c^e-

The moment eelected b; the painter is deactibed
in the tneoty-aixth chapter of St. Matthew, twentj-
Gnt and Iwentj-second verBeB ; " And aa thej did
eat, ho said, Verily, I Bay unto you, that one of
jou Ehall betray me : aad they were exceeding eoc-
Mwful, aad began every one of tham to aaj unto
him. Lord, ia it I ? " The knowledge of charactm
displayed in the beads of the difiorent apoetlca ii
ereo mare wonderful than the skilful arrang:>meiit
of the figures and the amazing beauty of the work-
inanship. The space occupied by the picture ia a
wall twenty-eight feet in length, and the Egures
are larger than life. The best judgment we can
now fi>rm of iU merits is from the Gna copy exo-
catad by one of Lionardo'e beet pupils, Marco Ug-
gione, for the Certosa at Pavia, and now in London,
in the collection of the Royal Academy. £leven
Other copiaa, by various pupils of LJonardo, painted
either during his lifetime or within a few y&iat
afler his death, while the picture was in perfeot
preservation, exist in different churchee and colleo-

Of the grand equestrian statue of Fronceeoo
Sfi)rza, lionardo nerer finished more than tha
modal in clay, which was considerod a master-
pioce. Some years afterwards (in 1499}, when
Uilan waa invaded by the French, it was used as ■

k

UOSAHBO IiA VINCI. liji

Isigat b; the Gascon bowmeQ, and cumplelelj da-
itrojed. The prorouod anatomical etudit^ which
Liouurdo muida fur this work still exist.

In the ;ear 1500, Iha French being in poBeeeeion
ofMilan, bis patron Ludovico in captivity, and tha
o&irB of tbe state in utter confusion. Liunardo r»-
tamed to hie Dative Florence, where he hoped to
reesCubllsh his broken fortunea, and to find employ-
ment. Hare begins the third period of his ortiBtia
life, from 1500 to 1513, that ia, from his fortj-
aighth to bis sixtieth jeai. lie found the Medici
family in exile, but was raceived by Piotro Soderini
(who governed tha city as " Ganfaloniere perpetuo")
with great distinction, and a pension was assigned
to him as painter in the service of the republic.

Then began the rivalry between Lionardo and
Michael Angelo, which lasted during the remainder
of Lionardo'a life. Tbe differenca of age (for
Michael Angelo was twonty-two years younger)
ought to have prevented all nnseemlj jealousy.
But Miahael Angelo was haughty, and impitient of
all Buperiority, or even equality ; Lionardo, sen-
Bitiva, capricious, and naturally disinclineil to
admit the pretensions of a rival, to whom he couM
Ray, and did say, " I was famouH before you were
born ! " With nil their admiration of each other's
geniuB, their mutual frailties prevented any real
good-will on either side. Tha two painters com-
peted for the honor of painting in fresco one side
rf tbe great Council-hall in the Palaiso VcocW' it

I

182 liABLI ITALIAN

Florence. Each prepared his oartoim ; each, emn
Iuu8 of the fame and cuaauioua of the abililiee of hit
rival, thretr utl hi* best puirers intu hia work.
LioniMilo ufauM for hia eutiject the Defeat uf tha
Milanese geuerol, Nicoolij Piccioino, hy the f liiran-
tiuo arm; in 144U. One uf the fineet groups rup»-
■enteil a cumbut of cuvalry disputing the posaeseioa
gf a Btandard. " It was io wonderfully executed,
that tha horses thumselvee seemed ooimuted hj the
nme fury as their riders ; nor is it possible to de-
scribe the varietj of attitudeK, the splendor of tha
dresBes and aruior of the warriore, nor the iocred-
ible skill displayed iu the fonns and actions of the

Michaul Angela choee for his subject the momant
before the souie buttle, when a party uf Florentine
BoUiers bathing in the Arno ore surprised by the
sound of the trumpet calling them tu Acm». Of
this cititoon we shall have more to say in treating
of bis life. Tha preference was given to Lionardo
da Vinci. But, as Ta.sati relates, he spent so much
time in trying eiperiments, and in preparing the
wall to receive oil-painting, which lie preferred to
freseo, that in the interval some changes in the
gerverament intervened, iind the design was aban-
doned. The two cartoons remained for several
years open to the public, and artists fiocked from
every part of Italy to study them. Subsequently
they were cut np into separata parU, dispelled, an<l
lost. It is curious that of Michael Angelo's eom

UONAQDO DA TINCl. 183

iKNutlon ontj ona Bmall copj exiata ; of Lionardo'i
not une. From a fraguiont whiah exieted in hit
time, but wliidi has Bint'o disapp Mired, Kubena
mode a fine drawing, wliich waa engruved bj Ede-
linck, and Is kuuwn oa tbe Battle of tba StaiidiiTd.
It was a reproach againat LioDurdu, in his own
time, tbat ho began many tilings and fiuiabed few ;
that hia magnificent dsaigna and projects, whether
in art or mechanics, were aeldoio (tompleted. TIlb
maj baa eubject of regret, but it ia unjust to malij
it a reproach. It waa in tbe nature of the man
The gniap of liia mind waa ao nearly Biiperhuman,
that ha never, in anything he eflectcd, satisfied him-
self or realized bis own vast conceptions. The most
azquiaitelj finialied of hia works, those Ihat in the
perfection of the execution have excited the wonder
ud deepair of succeeding art iaU, were put aside
by him aa unfinished sketches. Most of the pic-
tures now attributed to him were wholly or in part
painted by his suhulairs oud imitators from his car-
toons. One of the most famous of these was de-
•igned for the altar-piece of tbe church of the con-
vent called the Nunziata. It represented tba
Virgin Mary seated in the lap of her mothur, St.
Anna, having in Ler arms the infant Christ, nfails
Bt. John is playing with a lamb at their feet ; St.
Anna, looking on with a tender amile, rejoices -in
her divine ofispring. The figures were drawn with
such akill, and the various expreseions proper to
■acb conveyed with euch inimitable truth and grace,

LS4 kABLT ItAULlH PAINTKBa,

that, wben exhibited to a chamber of ths eonvait
the ialiabitanta of lbs cit; fiocked to see it, and f(U
two daja the itreets were crowded with jwoplo,
" as if it had been eome solemn feetiTal ; " but the
picture wiLB Dever painted, and the monks uf tht
Nuniiuta, after waiting long and in Tain for theii
altar-piece, were obliged tu emploj other artisU
Tho cartoon, or a rery fine rapetltiun of it, is aoyt
ic the poascfision of our Royal Academy, and II
must not be confounded with the St. Anna In th*
Louvre, a more fanlastic and upparentlj an earliai
OompoaitloD.

lionardo, during hia elaj at Florence, painted
tiie portr.iitof Ginevni Benci, already mentioDed,
in the mainoir of Ghiilandajo, as the reigning
iMftuty of her time ; and aleo the portrait of Mona
Lisa del Glocondo, sometimes called La Jocoode.
On this last picture he worked at intemUa fur foui
years, but was etiU iinsntUfiGd. It waa purchased
by Francis I. for four thousand golden crowns, aod
is now in the Louvre. We find Ljonardo also en-
gaged by Cseear Borgia to viait and report on the
fortlEcationa of lila territories, and in this office he
was employed for two years. In 1514 be waa in-
vited to Rome by Leo X.,but more In hie charactei
of philosopher, mechanic, and alohemUt, than ae a
painter. Here he found Raphael at the height of
bia fame, and then engaged in his grsnteet workt
— thfl freecoes of the Vatican. Two pictures which
U-^nardo painted while at Rome — the Madonn*

L VINCL

186

I

of St. Onjfrio, and the Uolj Fumily, paioted for
Filiberta of Savoy, the pope's sister-in-luw (which
is now at St. Petersburg) — sbovr that even this
veteran in art fait the irreaiatibla influence of the
geuiuB of his young rival. They are buth Raffael
lesque in the subject and treatment.

It appears that Lionardo was lll-Batisfied with his
sojourn at Kome. Ue had lung been accnstomed
w hold the first rank as an artist whererer he re-
gideii ; whereas at Rome he found himself only one
among many who, if they acknowledged his great-
ness, aSected to consider Uia day lis past. Ue was
consuiouB that many of the improvements in the
arts which were now brought into use, and which
enabled the [lainterB of the day to produce such ex-
traordinary afiects, were invented or introduced by
himself. If he could no longer aaoert that moasure-
lesa superiority over all others which he hail done
in his younger days, it was bocause he himself had
opened to them new paths to excellence. The
arrival of his old competitor Michael Aogelo, and
Borne slight on the part of Leo X., wlio was an-
noyed by his speculative and dilatory habits in (n-
eeuting the works intrusted to him, all added to
tuE irritation and disgust. Ue left Bome, and aA
Dot ibr Pavia, where the French king Francis I.
iJien held his court. He was received by the young
monarch with every mark of respect, loaded with
favors, and a pension of ssven hundred gold crowns
Mttled on him for life At the famous cunferenoa

186 XAKLT ITALIAM PAHITERS.

between Francis I. and Leo X. at Bologna, Lion-
ardo attended bis new patron, and was of essential
service to him on that occasion. In the following
year, 1516, he returned with Francis I. to France,
and was attached to the French court as principal
painter. It appears, however, that during his
residence in France he did not paint a single pic-
ture. His health had begun to decline from the
time be left Italy ; and, feeling bis end approach,
he prepared himself for it by religious meditation
by acts of charity, and by a most conscientious dis
tribution by will of all his worldly possessions to
his relatives and friends. At length, after pro-
tracted suffering, this great and most extraordinary
man died at Clouz, near Amboise, on the 2d of
May, 1519, being then in his sixty-seventh year.
It is to be regretted that we cannot wholly credit
the beautiful, story of his dying in the arms of
Francis I., who, as it is said, had come to visit him
on his death-bed. It would, indeed, have been, as
Fuseli expressed it, *' an honor to the king, by
which Destiny would have atoned to that monarch
for his future disaster at Pavia," had the incident
really happened, as it has been so often related b}
biographers, celebrated by poets, represented witt
a just pride by painters, and willingly believed by
all the world ; but the well-authenticated fact that
the court was on that day at St. Germain-en-Laye
whence the royal ordinances are dated, renders th<
itory, unhappily, very doubtful

LIONAUDO DA VD.CI. 187

^^H We have mentioned a few uf the genuine worka

^^M tt Lionaido da Vinci ) they are eicoedingly rare
^^B It appears certain that not one-third o( tbe pic-
^^H tures attributed to him and bearing his noma
^^M were the productiun uf bis uwn band, tliough tbej
^^M were ibe creation of bis mind, for be generatlr
^^M fumiehed tlie cartoons or deaigns from which his
^^M pupib executed pictuiee of various degrees of
^^1 excelicQce.

^^H Thus the admirable picture in our National Gal-

^^M ler; of Christ disputing nith the Doctors, though
^^M undoubtedly deaigaed by Liotiardu, is euppoaed by
^^M came to be executed by his b«st ecbolar, Bernardino
^^H Luini ; by others it is attrlbutod to Francesco Melzi.
^^B Those ruined pictures which bear bis name at Wind'
^^P sor and at Hampton Court are from the Miluuese
^H sohuol.*

Of nine pictures in the Louvre attributed to Lion-
■ido, three only — the St. John, and the two famous
portraits of the Monu Lisa and Luurezia Crivelli —
are considered genuine. The otiiors ore from hia
designs and from his sciiool.

In the FloTenliue Gallery, the Medusa is cer-
tainly genuine: but the fitmous Uerodias holding
the dish to receive the head of John the Baptist
vaa probably painted from his cartoon by Luioi,

I

t

■

ma UBLT nHJAN PAIHTKBa.

UiB onn portrait, in the e&me gallery (in tti« SaU4
dee PelnCraa), ie woo derfullj floe ; indead, tfie flDSSl
of ull, and the one nbich at once attracla und &xea

In the Milan colIectionB are manj picturM at-
tributed to him. A few are in prirate cuUetaiou
in England. Lord AahbuTton has an exquiaito
grouji of the Infant Christ and St. John plajing
with a lamh ; and there is a small tiadunna in
Tiord ShrewBburj'a gallery at Alton Towers.

liut it is the MS. noted and dosigna lefl behind
bin that give us the best idea of the inde&tigabla
[nduBtrj of this " niyriad-minded man," and tha
almost incredible extent of his acqubemeots. In
the Ambrosian Library at Milan there are tnelva
huge volumes of hia works relative to arts, chem-
iBtry, ma til em.it ics, &,c.-, one of them oiiotainB a
ooUoctiua of unutomical drawings, wbich the celo-
bialed anatomist Dr. Hunter deecriljed as the moiat
wonderful tEiinga of the kind for accuracy and
beauty that he had ever beheld- In the Soyal
Library at Windsor there ate three Tolumee of
MSS. and drawings, containing a vast variety of
■ubjects — portraits, iieacU, groups, and single fig-
ures ; fine auatomical studies of horses ; a battle
of elephants, full of spirit ; drawings in optics,
hydraulics, and perspective ; plans of lailitary ma-
ebinee, maps and surveys of rivers : beautiful and
ftcourate drawings of plants and rucks, to be intro-
ducbd into bis pictures ; musical airs noted in hii

I

LIONARDO PA TISCI. 189

gwn hand, pBrhapa hia uwti com posit ions ; atiutom-
icol subjecU, with elabarate notes and explanatiune.
In the Rojal Library at Paris there is a volume cf
philoBopbie&l treatisee, fram which extracts havs
been published by Ventnri. In tba Holkham Col-
lection IB a MS. treatiae on hjdraulioa. The " Trea-
tise on Painting," bj Lionardo da Vinci, has be«a
traneluttid from the original Italian into IVench,
Eogliah, and German, and is the foundation uf all
that Iiaa ainca been written on the aubject, wliether
relating to the theoTj or to the practice of the
att. Hia MSS. are particularlj difficult to read
or decipher, as he bad a habit of writing from
right to left, instead of from left to right. What
waa hia Toaeon for this elngularitj haa not been
explained.

The scholars of Lionardo da Vinci, and tljose
artists formed in the Academy which he founded
in Milan, under the patronage of Ludovioo il
Moro, comprise that school of art known as the
Milanese, or Lombard School. Thej are distin-
guished hj a lengthj and graceful atjle of draw
ing, a particular amenity and sweetness of espres-
uoo (which in the inferior painters degenerated
into affectation and a sort of lapid smile], and
particularly by the transparent lights and shadows
— the eAiaroKuro, of which Lionprdo was tba in-
»ertor or discoverer. The most eminent painlen
were Bernardino Luini ; Marco Uggione, or D'Og-
fioni ; Antonio BeltrafGo ; FrsDUcaco Meizi ; and

190 XABLT TIAJJAX TAJMTMRB.

Andrea Salai. All them stadied under the imnie*
diate tuition of Lionardo, and painted most of the
pictures aeoribed to him. Gaudenzio Ferrari and
Genre da Sesto imitated hiaiy and owed their
eUebrity to his influenoe

MICHAEL ANGELO.

Bom U74, died IMi.

Wk bars spoken of LioDardo da Yinci. Uichael
Asgelo, the other great laminnrj of &rt, naa tnen-
ty-two years younger ; but the more sevore and
reBectiTB ca^t of his mind rendered their difierence
of agu far less in effect than in reality. It is uaual
to uomparo Michael Angalo with Kaphaol, but li«
is more aptly compared with Lionardo da Vinci-
All the great artieU of tliat time, even Raphael
himself, were inQuenced more or leea by these two
extraordinary men, but they exercieed no influence
on each other. They started from opposite points ;
they pursued throughout their whole existence, and
in all they planned and achieved, a course &b differ-
ent as their reepeotive oharactera. It would be vary
cnriouB and interesting to carry out the comparison
in detail ; to show the contrast in organisation, in
temper, in talent, in taste, which exlatad between
men so highly and so equally endowed ; but our
limits forbid this indulgence. We shall, therefore,
only observe here that, considered aa artists, they
emulated each other in yatiety of power, but that
Lionardo was more the painter than the sculptol

192

r ITALIAN FAHlTEBa.

and archilflct, Michael Angela was more the soulp-
tot and arcliitoct than the painter. Both songht
true inspiration in Nature, but the; beheld her
with difierent ejee. Lioearda, vbo designed ad-
mirably, appears to have seen no ovtline in objects
and labored all fais life to convey, bj ooloT and ligbt
and shade, the impression ot beautj and the illusiTC
effect of rotonditj. He preferred the aae oF oil to
fresco, because the mellow smoothnces and trans-
parenry of the vehicle was more capable of giving
the effects he deeired. Michael Angelo, on the
contrary, turned hie whole attention to the de&Qi-
tion oX form, and the siprsBsion of life and power
through action and movemoot ; he regarded the
illusive effects of painting as meretricious and
beneath his notice, and despised oil-painting as a
ityle for women and children. Considered as men,
both were as high-minded and generous as they
were gifted and original ; but the former was aa
remarkabla for his versatiie and social nccomplish-
meats, his love of pleasure and habits of expense
as the latter fur his stem, inQesible temper, and hia
temperate, liugal, and secluded hahite.

Michael Angelo Buonaroti was horn at Settig-
nano, near Florence, in the year 1474. lie was
dsHcended from a family once noble — even amongst
the noblest of the feudal lords of northern Italy —
the Counts of Canosaa ; but that branch of it rep-
resented by his father, Luigi Lionaido Buonaroti
Simoni, had for some generations become poortt

I BICHiKL iSOKLO. lyS

and poorer, until the lost deacendant vaa thankful
to accept on office in the Iliu, and had been Domi
Hated magistrate or mayor {Podesla) of Chiusi.
In this eituatiiin be hitd limited bis ambition to
the prospect of seeing liia cldeet son a notary or
advouate in hia native city. The young Blichoel
Angelo shon'ed the utmost distaste for the stiidiafl
allotted to liim, and was continually escaping from
bie bume and from his Am\ to haunt the nCtJiers
of the painters, particularly that of Ohirlandajo,
vho was then at the height of hia reputation, and
of whom some account hue been already given.

The father of Michael Angdlu, who found his
bmilj increaBe too rapidly for hia moans, hod des-
tined soma of his sons for commerce (it will ba
recollected that in Genoa and Florence the most
powerful nobles were merchants or manufacturers),
and others for civil or diplomatic employmente. But
the fine arts, as being at that time productive of
little honor or emolument, he held in no esteem,
and treated these tastes of his eldest son somotimM
with contempt, and sametimea even with barshnees.
Michael Angelo, however, had formed some friand-
■hipe among the young painters, and particularly
with Francesco Gronacci, one of the best pupils of
Ghirlandajo ; he contrived to borrow models and
drawings, and studied them in eecret with such
porsevering assiduity and consequent improvement
that Ghirlandajo, captivaCsd by bis genius, under-
took to plead hia cause to his father, and at lengtb
13

XAULI ITALIAN PAIKTKBS.

pTOvailed over the old man's fanutj pride luid pr^
udicfls. At the aga of fourteen, Michael Augelo
> the studio of Ghirlandajo as a
regulur pupU, and bound to him fur three years i
and euch was tlie precocioue ttLl>mt of the bo^r, that
insteiui of being paid for his inslTQction, Ghirlan-
^o undertuok to pa; the father, Lionardo Buoc*-
tot), for the Gr»t, Bccond, and third yearn, six,
Mght, and twelve guidon florina, as payment for tha
advantage he expected to derive from the labor of
tbeeoD. Thus was the vocation of the young artist
deuided for life.

At that time Lorenso the MagniGceot reigneo
orer Florence, lie had formed in his palace and
gardens a collection of antique marbles, busts,
statues, fragments, which be bad converted into
an academy for the use of young artists, placing
at the head of it as director a sculptor of eoma
eminence, named Bertoldo. Michael Angelo woa
one of the firat who, liirough the rocommeodation
of Ghirlandajo, was Teceived into this new acade-
mj, afterwards so furouuB and so memorable iu tha
history of art. The young man, then not quita
■liteen, had hitherto occupied himself chieBy in
drawing ; but now, fired by the beauties be beheld
around him, and by the example and success of a
feUow-pupil, Torregiano, he set himself to model in
clay, and at length to cop; in marble what waa
before him ; hut, as was natural in a character
Uid genius so steeped in individuality, hia co^uea

HICHAEL AMOELO.

amhodjings of the leading idea, and I

Mediui, struck b; hia extmurdinarj p

is father
particular

and ofiered b

auh the boj to iiis o

idertake tEjB entire can
of his education. The father coueented, on coudi-
tion of receiving fur himself an office under the
government; nnd thenceforth Michael Angelu wua
lodged in the palace of the Medici, and treated by
Lorenzo aa his son.

Such Budden and increasing favor escited the
envy and jealousy of hie companions, particularly
of Torregiano, who, being of a violent and arrogant
temper (that of Michael Angelo was bj no meant
oonciliating) , sought every means of showing hia
hatred. On one occasion, a quarrel having eueued
while tliey were at work togsther, Torregiano turned
in fury and struck his rival a blow with hia mallet,
which disfigured bim for life. His nose was flat-
tened to his face, and Torregiano, having by thia
"sacrilegious stroke" gratified hie hatred, was
banished from Florence.

It is fair, however, to give Torregiano's own ac-
count of this incident as he related it to Benvenuto
Cellini, many years afterwards. " This fiuonaroti
and I, when we were young men, went to study in
the churcli of the Carmelites, in the cbapel of Ma-
mccio. It voA customary with Buonaroti to rally
those who were learning to draw there. One day,
ftinong others, a sarcuem of hie having etunj; me Ic

IM ■*BLI ITiLIAN PilNTERB.

tha quirk, I wm extremdj irritated, and, doukUiig
mj fist, gave him such & violeat blow OS the noM
that I felt tbe bone and cartilage yield aa if tbey
bad been made of paste, and tbe mark I then gava
bim he will carrj to bia graTB."

Thua it appeara that the blun was not nTipTi>-
Tokad, and that Michael Angelo, eren at the age
•>f liiteaD, indulged in that contemptuous arro-
gance and saTCBstia apeech which, in his malurer
age, made bim to manj enemies. But to return.

Michael Angelo continued his etudiea onder the
auspicoi of Lorenzo ; hut jnat as he had reached
hijs eighteenth year be loet his generous patron, his
second father, and was tliencefbrth thrown on his
own reeources. It is true that tbe eon of Lorento,
Piero da' Medici, continued to extend his favor to
the joung artiet, but with bo little comprehension
of his genius and character, that on one occasion,
during a severe winter, he Bent him to fonn a etattin
ef snow for the amuseiaent of his giteats.

Michael Angelo. while he jielded, perforce, to
the caprices of his protector, turned the euergies of
his mind to a new studj — that of anatomj — and
pursued it with all that fervor which belonged to
his character. Hie attention was at the some time
directed to literature, hj tbe counsels and conver-
iationa of a very celebrated scholar and poet, then
naiding in the court of Piero — Angeio Polimnos
■nd he pursued at the same time the cultivation of
his mind and the practice of his art. EngioBsad

I

UICUAKl. AKOELO. ttil

bj his own Btudiee, ha was ecurcelj anare of what
vras passinR oround him, nor of the popular in-
trigues whioh were preparing the ruin of the
Medici. Suddenly this powerful family were flung
from suTereigntj to tampurary disgraoa and exile;
and Michael An};elo, as one of their retuinerB, waa
obliged to fly from Florence, and took refuge in the
city of Bologna. During the year ha spent there
lie found a Iriend who employed him on eome workl
of sculpture; and on bis return to Florenee be ese-
auted a Cupid in marble, of Duch beauty that it
found ita way into the cabinet of the Ducbesa of
Uantua oa a real antique. On the diticovory that
the author of this beautiful statue waBayonngmna
of two-and-twanty, the Cardinal Sao Giurgio io-
Titad him to Roma, and for some time lodged him
in hie palace. Uore Michael Angelo, eurroundad
and inspired by the grand ramuine of antiquitj,
pareued his studies with unceueiog energy. He
produced a statue of Bacchus, which added to hii
reputation ; and the group of tlie dead Christ oa
the kneea of his Virgin Slother (called (Ac Piela),
irhicb is now in the church of St. Peter's, at Borne.*

* TblH PIbU [fl the oDij trork vhtmn Mldiul Angek lidDrlbed

bqv*, 4veD td hii heoripf , la dijpnM
nriE, which the; iigmd \a eulUog
Oh dI Ihem, itlia tru ■ BulugasK, Id

I

198 »*Rt,Y ITALIAN

thie lut, being fr?quentlj copied and imitated, ob
tained him eo much npplaiiee and reputation, that
ba was recalled to Florence, to imdartake several
pnblic worke, and foond himself once more estab-
liabet) in hie native city aliout the jear 1604.

Uitlierto we have seen Michael Angelo wholly
devoted to the study and practice of sculpture; but
ioOD oTler his return to Florence he was called upon
to compete with Lionardo da Vinci in executing tha
cartoons for the ireecoeswith which it nos intended
to decorate the walla of the Palazzo Vecctiio, or
town-hall of Florence. The cartoon of Lionardo
has been already descriliod. That of Michael An-
gelo repreeenled an incident which occurred during
the Biego of Pisa, — a group of Florentine Holdiers
bathing in the Amo hear the trumpet which pro-
claims a Eurtie of the enemy, and spring at onoe to
the combat. He chose this subject, perhaps, aa
affording urople opportunity to exhibit his peculiar
and wonderful skill in designing the human figure.
AU is life and movement. Tba vrarriors, soma
already clothed, but the greater part iindreased,
hasten to obey the call to battle ; they ore seen
clambering up the lianlis — huekling on their armor
— rushing forward, hurriedly, eagerly. There are,
altogether, about thiriy figures, the size of life,

at Bol^ffba, whofD be niuD«

ennnd thechqRb. uodbf

MICnAEL AN'QELO. 1D9

dnwT vitli black ohalk, and Tolieved with nhite.
This cartoon waa regarded hy his contamporiLriea as
thq most perfect of hia works ; that is, in respect to
the execution merelj : as to aubject, sentiment,
and character, it would not certainly rank with the
finest of his works ; for, with every possible variety
of gesture and attitude, exhibited with admirable
and lifelike energy and the most consummate
knowledge of form, there was only one eipressian
throughout, and that the leant intellectual, majes-
tie, or interesting — the expression of hurry and
surprise. While this great work existed, it was a
Study for all the yoking artists of Italy. But
Michael Angelo, who had suffered in person from
the jealousy of one rival, was destined to Buffer yet
more cruelly from the envy of another. It is said
that Bundinelli, the sculptor, profited by the
trouhlaa of Florence to tear in pieces this monument
of the glory and genius ofa man he detested ; but
in doing so he boa only left an enduring stain upon
his own fame. A small old copy of the principal
part of the composition exists in the collection of
the £arl of Leicoater, at Holkham, and has been
finely engraved by Suhiavonetti.

The next work in whicli Michael Angelu was en-
gaged yiae the tomb of Pope Julius 11., who, while
living, had conceived the idea of erecting a most
splendid monument to perpetuate his memory. Fot
this work, which was never completed, Michael
Angelo executed the lamous statue of Mooes, seatad.

p

I

£DQ E.UtLI rCAUAN PllNTEBS.

CKxpiiig his flowing beard with one hand, abA

«ith tbe otber HUBtuining the tables of the law.
While employed on this tomb, the pope cummauded
b'ua to undertake also tbs decoration of the ceiling
of the Sistine Chapel. The reader may remember
that Pope SiituB IV., in the year 1473, erected
his famous uhapel, and summoned the best piiintetf
of that limp, Sigiiurelli, Cosimo Roaelli, Peropno,
and Ghirlundujo, to decorate the interior. Bat
down to tha year 1508 the cfflllng remained widi-
out uny ornament i and Michael Angelo woa called
upon to cover this enonnous vault, a space uf ono
hundrnl and Slly foot in length by Glly in breadth,
with a Bsries uf subjects, representing the moat im-
portant events connected, either literally or typi-
cally, with the fall and redemption of mankind.

No part uf Michael Angela's long life is sii tnter-
isting, BO full of characteristic incident, as the hia
torj of his intercourse with Pope Julius 11., which
began in 1505, and ended only with the death of
the pope, in 1513.

Michael Angelo had at all timeu a lofty idea of
hif own dignity as an artist, and never would stoop
Nther to flatter a patron or to iwnclliuta a rival-
Julius II., though now seventy-four, whs as im-
patient of contradiction, as fiery in temper as full
of mi^nificent and ambitiouB projects, as if he had
been in the prime of life. In his service wtui the
EunoDS architect Bramante, who beheld ivith jeal-
niij and alarm the increasing fame of Mioltad

mCUAKL AMUELO, 201

Angulo UDd lii« inQaenue \Tith the pontiff, and eel
himBelf bj indirect mesDH to loGsen botb. lie io-
iinuaud to Julius thtit it vaa ominous to ereut bit
1 maueuleum during bis lifetime, and the pops
gradually fell off in his uttontiona to Michael An-
gelo, and neglected to eupply him with the neces-
larj funds for carrying on the work. On one
occasion, Michael Angelo, finding it difficult to ob-
tain nccoee to the pope, aent n message to him to
this effect, " tliat henceforth, if bis holitioiB desired
to Bee him, he sliuuld send tu seek him elsewhere ; "
and the same night, leaving orders with his servants
to dispose of his propertj, he departed for Florence.
The pope dispatched five couriers after him with
threats, porsuafions, promises, — but in vain. Be
WTot« to the Gonfaloniere Sodcrini, then at the
bead of the government of Florence, commanding
him, on pain of bia extreme displeasure, to send
Michael Ang^ilo back to him ; but the indexible
artist absolutely reftised. Three months were spent
in vain negotiations. Soderini, at length, fearing
the pope's anger, prevailed on Michael Angelo to
retura, and sent with him his relation Cardinal
Boderini to make up the quarrel between the high
contending powers. The pope was then at Bologna,
and at the moment when Miiibael Angelo arrived he
was at supper, lie desired him to be brought into
his presence, and, on seeing him, exclaimed, in a
transport of fury, " Instead of obeying our com-
oiands aud coming to us, thou haat waited till wi

202

EARLY ITALIAN VAISTERB.

oawe in search of theal " (Bologna being maoll
nearer to Flutence than to Rome.) Michael An
gelo fall on bii kneea, nnd entreated pardon with a
Icud Toice. " Holy father," said be, " mj offotico
baa not arisen from an evil nature; I could no
longer endure the inButtB offered to me in the palaca
of jour holiness! " He remained kneeling, and
the pope continued to bend hia bronn in eilence,
when a certain bishop in altendiinoe on the Cardi-
nal Soderini, thinking to mend the matter, inter-
fered with ezcuBSH, representing that " Michael
Angelo — poor man! — had erred through igno-
rance ; that artists were wont to praaume too mncb
on their genius," and tu forth. Theiraacible pope,
interrupting him with a sharp blow across tba
ahoulders with hie staff, exclaimed, " It is thou that
art ignorant and pteauming, to insult him whom we
feel ouraelrea bound to honor. Take thjself out
of our sight ! " And, as the terrified prelate stood
transBxed with amazement, tlie pope'a attendfiDta
forced him out of the room. Julius then, turning
to Miobael Angelo, gave him his forgivenees and
hia bleeaing, and commanded him never again to
iBave him, promising him on all occasions liis favor
and protection. This extraordinary scene l«ok
place in November, 150&.

The work on the tomb w
diatelj resumed.

, however, imino-
il Angelu was commanded

erecMd in front of the principal church of Bologn&

UICBASI. ANOELO. 203

Bo thran into the figure and attitude so macli of
tbe haughtj and roBoIute character of tlie original,
tbat JuliuB, on Eeeing tha model, asked him, Tc.th
B BTuile, whether he intended to represent liini aa
blessing or as cursing. To whicli Michael Angelo
prudentiy replied, that he intendeid to represent iiia
bolinesB as admoniahing the inhabitantH of Bologna
to obedience and submisaion, " And what," said
the pope, well pleased, " wilt thou put in the other
hand? " — " A book, may it pleiise jour holinesH."
— "A book, man!" eiclaimed the pope: "put
rather a aword. Thou knoweet I am no scholar."
The fate of this statue, however we maj lament it,
was fitting and Gharacterletic. A few years aller-
wards, the populace of Bologna rebelled against the
popedom, flung down the statue of Julius, and out
of the fragmenU was constructed a cannon, which,
from its origin, was etjiod La Giuliana.

On hia return to Home, Michael Angelo wished
to have resumed his work on the mausoleum ; but
the pope had resolved on the completion of the
Bistine Chapet. Ue commanded Miuliael Angelo
to undertake the decoration of the vaulted ceiling ,
and the artist was obliged, though reluctantly, to
obey. At this time the frescoes which Raphael
ftud his pupils were painting in the chambers of the
Vatican had eacited the admiration of all Rome.
Michael Angelo, who had never exercised himself
in the mechanical part of the art of fresco, invited
&om Fionince several painters of e.

iOi

i PALNTCBH.

scute Lie deeignt uoder his own superiDtciideim ,
bat tLo; could not reach ibe grnndeur uf hU oon-
ceptiuuB, which becaDia enfeebled under Ch^
handH ; imd, one inomiDg, in a mood uf impatianca,
he doBlTojcd all that the; bud done, closed tlie
doon i)f the chapel aguinst them, and would not
thencerurtb admit them tu hie presenoe. He Iben
thut liiuBeif up, and prcfcecded with incredible par-
KTenuioe and energy to accompluh liis task alunv;
heeren prepared his oon colon with bis own handa.
He bcgitn widi the end tcwarda the door ; and in
the two cumpiiTtmentB first painted (though not
&8t in the series), the Deluge, and the Vinejaid
of Nouh, he made the figures too numerouB and too
■nifiU Ui produce their full oOect Irom below, — a
&ult which hs corrected In those executed subee-
quently. When uimoat balf the work waa com-
pleted, the pope itisistpd on viewing what was done,
Bud the astoniEbiuent and odminitioD it excited
rendered him more and more euger to hace the
whole completed at once. The progreee, howaier,
tras not r&pid enough to suit the impatient temper
of the pontiff. On one oci:aaion he demanded of
the artist ufAen lie meant to finish it, to which
Michael Angalo replied, colalj, " When I can."
' — " When thua canst ! " eiulaimed the Gerj old
pope. " Thou host a mind that I should have thee
thrown from the acafiuld ! " At length, on the
daj of All Saints, 1512, the ceiling was uncovered
to public view. Michael Angelo hod employed on

r
I

lELO. 20tl

tba paint'ng only, without reckoning the time spent
in preparing the cartoons, twenty-two tnontlip, and
iia TBceived in pajmant three thousand crowns.

To describe this grand work in all its details,
wsuld occupy many pages. It will give some idea
of ita immanBity to Bay that it contains in all up-
wttrds of two hundred figursa, tlio greater part of
eoiosaal size ; and that witli regard to invention,
grandeur, and expression, it has been a Bchool for
study, and a theme for wonder, during three no-
cessiTe agea. In the centre of the ceiling are four
large compartments and five small ones. In the
former are represented the Creation of the Sun ami
Moon; the Creation of Adam, perbaps the moat
majestic design that was ever conceived by the
genius of man ; the Fail and tlie Expulsion from
Paradise ; the Deluge, In the five small compart-
menta are represented the Gathering of the Waters
(Gen. 1:9); the Almighty separating Light from
Darkness ; the Creation of Eve ; the SaeriiicB of
Noah, and Noah's Vinayard. Around theK, in the
enrred part of the ceiling, are the Prophets and tba
Sibyls who foretold the birth of Christ. These ars
among the most wonderful forms that modern art
hM called into life. They are all seated and em-
ployed in oontempkting books or antique rolls o(
tnannscript, with genii in attendance. These mighty
beiogB flithefore ub, looking down with solemn med-
itative aspects, or upwards with inspired looks tliat
■ea into futurity All their forms are massive and

206 KARLT ITALIAN PAINTKB8.

siiblluie, all are full of v&ried and IndiTidual char

Beneuth thcea agaiD are a seriea of gruiipB tipr»
KDtiDg liie aucthlj gtmealogf of Clirtst, ia which
the figures hsTea repose, a contemplative grace and
(enileruces, whioh plute them among the rooet inter-
Wting of all the productiooB of Michuel Angelo.
Tbisa and ifae Sgure of Eve in the Fall Bhow haw
inlflnae wag hia faeling of beaut;f , though he fre-
quently diadained to avail himself of it. Id the
four corners of the ceiling are TopresentatioDH of
the miraculouB deli veraoce of the people of Israel, in
allueioD to tlie genoml redemptioD of man bj the
Saviour, namely, HolofBrnea vanquialied by Judith,
David overcoming Goliath, the Brazen Serpent, and
the Punishment of Haman.

There is a small print in Kugler's Hand-lxKik,
which will give a general idea of the arrangement
of thia famous ceiling. There is one on a large
Kale by Piroli, and a still larger one by Cun^o,
which, if acceeaible, will answer the purpose bet-
ter. In our National School of Design, at Someraet
Qouse, there is an admirable colored drawing latelj
brought from Rome by Mr, L. Griiner, which will
con»oy a very correct idea not merely of the ar-
rangement of the Bubjacts and figures, but of the
harmonious disposition of the colors — a merit not
nsually nllowad to Michael Augelo.

The eollection of engrnvinge after Michael dogolo
In the British Museum is veiy imperfect, but it aoa

MICHAEL ANG£LO.

tains some fine uld prints from tlie Propliets, which
ahould be studied by those wlio wish to iindiirBtaiul

irit of thiH great
Joshua. RejDolds said that " t(
ganuent, to catch the slighteij!
would be glory and diatiDctioD

n the Sistine Chapel '

of whom Sir
kiaa the hem of lua
of hla porfeutions,
nougb fur no amb)

m plated Jlich

I

thirty-ninth year ', fifty years of
though troubled career were still bofora

^Vngelo V

Pope Juliua H. died in 1513, and yi
by Lou X., the son of Lorenzo the Magnificent. At
» Florentine and his father 'a eon, we might natu-
rally hare expected that he would hare gloried in
paCronixIng and employing Michael Angelo ; but
aueh was not the case. There was something in
the fltern, unbending character, and retired aad
abatemioua hahitii of Michael Angelo, rcpuleiFs to
the temper of Leo, who preferred the graceful and
amiable Raphael, then in the prime of his life and
graiiua. Hence arose the memorable rivalry between
Miuboal Angelo and Baphael, which on the part of
the latter was merely generous emulation, while it
iBuat be confeesed that something Jito bittornefis
and enry, or at least scorn, mingled with the feal-
bga of Michael Angelo. The pontificate of Leo S.,
%n interval of ten years, was the least productive
period of hia life. lie was sent to Florence, to
superintend the building of the church of San Lo-

208 EABLT mLUH PUMTEBd.

nnio and the cnmpletion of Santa Cro"« ; but h»
iiBend nith the pope on tha choice of the maibls,
qaorrelted with tha officiola, and Bcaxoelj anjthing
waa acoomplished. Clement VTI., annther iledioi,
was elected pope in 1523. Ee wbb the son of that
Qiuliano de' Medici who waa asuMinated bj the
Pazzi in 1478. He had conceived the idea of con
■aerating a chapel in the oharch of San Lorenm, to
IMeife the tmnbeofhiR auoeetAre and relatioDB, and
which ehuuld be adumed with all the eplendora of
art. Michael Angela planned and built the chapel,
and for its interior decoration deeigned and 6x^
cnted sii of his greatast works in sculpture. Two
ore seated statuis ; one representing Lorenio do'
Medici, Duke of Urbino, who died joung, in 1519,
living onlj to ba the father of Catharine de' Mediei
(and, aa it haa been well said, " had an evil spirit
ABBumed the hiiinan shape to propagate mischiaf,
he could not bate done better ") ; the other, oppt^
lite, his cousin Giuliano de' Medici, whu was ai
veak as Lorenzo was vioious. The other foar kia
colowal recumbent figurae, entitled the Night, tha
Morning, the Dawn, and the Twilight: though
wh; ao culled, anil why these figures were intro-
duced in such a situation — what was tlie inten-
tion, the ueaning of tljo artist — does not seem to
be understood bj any of the critics on art who ban
written on the subject. The atatue of Lorcnxo if
almoet awful in ita sullen grandeur. He lookr
down in a oontemplatlTs attitude ; he&oe the ap

I

I UICnAEL ANGELO. 20\}

pellation bj which ths figure is known in ttuljr —
II Pensifero {TlwugiU or McdUalioR). But there ib
miBchief in the look — Bomething yagiie, ominouH,
difficalt to be described- Altugether it well-nigh
tealizee our idea of Milton's Satan brooding over
bis inrernal plans for the ruin of mankind. Mr.
Rogers stjles it truly " the most real and unreal
thing that ever came from the cbtsel." And hia
description of lie whole cbdpel is as Tivid as poeti;
and as accurate as truth contd make it :

" Nor thBu furgot that chomber of tlie dead

Where tho

gigantio BbadfH o

Night and D

Turned iuto stun

0, rest Dvor

Bitinglj.

Tbore froD

ago to ago

Two gboets

tting on th

ir aepuEcbica.

That is Iho

Dqk

LOUBKIO.

Mark him w8

Ho mtiditii

es;

ia hud apo

D bis band.

What fri)ni

bono

Ih hii hel.n

lihD bonnet so

In it a faoe

orb

ut aa oyelo.

< skull 7

TisloBtin

sbad

-j.t, lik

the baslilBk,

ItbBcinati

Band

While Michael Angelo was engaged in these works
hia progress wbb interrupted hy events wliieh threw
all Italy into commotion. Rome was taken and
Backed by tlia Constable de Bourbon, in 1537. Tha
Medici were once more expelled from Florence, and
Michael Angela, in the midst of tliese etrungo Tlcts-
aitudes, was employed by the republic to fortify hia
I naUTC city against hia former patrona. Great U
n engineer as in evary other department of art and
14

210 ElRLir rt^LIAM PAIKTEBS.

KiPDca, be defended Floraace for nine months. Ak
length ths citj was given ap t>j trcacheij, and,
tearing the vengeiuice of the conquerors, Uiclmd
Angela fled and concealed bimeelf; but Clement
TU. wa£ too Bensible of bis merit to allow him to
ramoin long in disgrace and exile. He iraa par-
doneil, and continued ever artorwardB in high favor
with the pope, who emploj^ bim on the eculptures
in the cbupel of San Lorenzo during the remainder
of hiB pontiGcate.

Clement VII. waa eucceeded bj Pope Paul m..
of the Fiirneee Ikmilj, in 1534. This pope, though
nearly seveatj when be was elected, was as anxious
to immortalize his name b^; great undertakings as
anj of his predecessors had been before him. Hia
first wish was to complete the decomtion of the
interior of the Sletine Chapel, left unfiniihed bj
Julius II. and Leo X. He summoned Michael An-
gelo, who endeavored to eicuee himself, pleading
other engagementa ; but tlie pope would listen to
no excuBug which interfered with his sovereign
power to diMolve all other obligations ; and thus
the artist found himself, after an interval of twen^
jears, most reluctantly forced to abandon sculpture
for piiinting ; and, as Vasari expresses it, he oon-
lented to serve Pope Paul only becftuse he could not
do otherwise.

tn representing the Lost Judgment on the wall
of the upper end of the Sistine Chapel, Michod

w

I

Angelo onlj adhered to the origmiLl plnn as it had
been adn|>ted bj Julius II., and afterwards bj
It VII.

In the centre of this Taet composition ho bat
~ tbe figure of the Messiah in the act of pro

lUDcing tbe sentence of condemnatioD, " Depart
tnm me, je occureed, into everlasting £re ; " and
bj bia Bide the Virgin Marj : around them, on
each side, the apoetles, the patriarchs, the prophets,
and a company of saints and mortjrs ; aboTB these
are groups of BDj»elB iMuring the croao, the crown
of thorns, aod other inBtrnments of the psEsion of
Inir Lord; and further down another group of
Higels holding tbe book of life, and sounding the
•wful trumpets whiuh call up the dead to judg-
ment. Below, on one side, the reeurrectioo and
ucent of the blessed ; and, on the other, demou
drag down the condemned to everlasting lire. Tha
number of figures is at leaet two hundred. Those
who wish to form a correi^ idea of tbe composition
Mid arrangement should consult the engruvingB,
fioveral, of different bIkss nnd different degrees of
•iceUenoe, are in the Britiah Aluseum.

There can be no doubt that Michael Angelo's
Lost Judgment ie the grandest picture that ever
was painted — tbe greatest eiTort of human skill, aa
^ creation of art ; yot is it full of faults in taste and
Bentiment ; and the greatest fault of all is in tba
eencaption of the principal personage, tbe hiessiafa
to judge. Tho figure, expression, attitude, arc all

f, Ulemer
^B In t
^^Blaced
^Bvounci

I

212 BiRLi iTALUN FAiNnns.

nnworthy — one mtgbt almost say vulgar in tli*

woTBt Bense ; for i« there tiol both profananiBB and
vulgarity in representing the mereirul Bodeomer of
mankind, even when he " comts to judgment," aa
inspired merely by wrath and vengeancB ? — as »
thick-aat athlete, who, with a gesture of anllen
BDger, is about to punieb the wicked with bU fiat T
It baa been already observed thnC Michael Angela
borrowed the idea of the two figures of the Vir^n
and Christ from the old freaco of Orcagna in the
Campo Santo ; but in improving the drawing ho
baa wholly lost and degraded the sentiment. Id
the groups of the pardoned, as Kugler has well
,}beerTed, we look in TuJn fur " tho glory of heaven
— for beings bearing the stamp of divine bolinesa
and renunciation of bamiin weiLkness. Gverywhare
we meet with the expression of human passion
buman efforts ; we sea no choir of solemn, tmnqaQ
forma — no harmonious unity of olear, grand lines
produced by ideal draperies ; but in their Bt«ad a
confused crowd of naked bodies in violent attitudei,
unaccompanied by any of the characteristies mada
sacred hj holy tradition." On the other hand, tho
gronps of the condemned, and the astonishing en-
ergy and varjety of the struggling and suspendod
forms, are moat fearful ; and it is quite true that
when contemplated from a distance the whole rfp-
resenlation Ella the mind with wonder and myrtari
OUB horror. It was intended to represent the dsfeak
and fall of the rebel angele on the opposite waU

MICUAEL ANOELO. 21b

I \KboTa and on eacb eids of tbe principal door] , but
3 never dune ; und the inleithon ot Michael
, Angela in tlie deconitioD of the Siatine Cliapot r&-
is incomplute. Tlie picture of the Last Jkidg
tnent waa finished and Grsl; cxbibited to tbe pcopli,
iiL CbriHttnu^ daj, 1431, under the pontificate of
Paul til. Michael Angelu wa? then in iiis eixtj-
Kventii jeor, and hud been emplojed on the paint-
ing and cartoons nearly nine years.

The same Po|>o Paul III. had, in the mean time,

oonetructfld a beautiful chapel, which was called

after his name the chapel Pao/iaa, and dedicated

to St. Peter and St. Paul. Michael Angelu was

called upon to design the decorations. He painted

L tm one eido the Caavorsio& of St. Paul, and ou the

Esther the Crucitlzion of St. Peter. But these fine

F paintings — of which aiisting old engrarings (to be

found io the British Museum) give a better idea than

the blackened and faded remains of the original

fk^scoeg — wore from the GrBt ill-disposed as to the

locality, and badly lighted, and at present they

excite little interest compared with the more flkuvous

works in the Sistine.

During the period that Michael Angelo was

gngoged in the decoration of the Pauline Chapel,

I lie executed a group in marble — the Virgin with

I the dead Redeemer and two other figures — which

ever completely finished. It is now at

I Florence boliind the high altar of the church of

214 BAKI.V ITAUAH PAINTER9,

Santa Croce. It U taU of tragio gmndeur sad
eipnwaiou."

With tLs frescoes in tha PaulJna Cbapel end*
Hiobnnl Angelo'a career as a painter. During tha
Temainder of his life, a period of siiteen years, we
End him whuUj devoted to architecture, llis vast
tiod daring genius finding ampla aoope in the com-
plution of St. Peter's, he haa left behind him in his
oapacitj of architect yet greater tnarrelB than he
liad achieved OS painter and sculptor. Who that haa
wen the cupola of St. Peter's soaring int{i the skies,
but will think almost vrith awe of tbe nniversal and
niajeaLic intellect of the man who reared it?

There is a strikuig anecdote of Mrs. Siddons,
which at this moment oomea back npon the mind.
When standing before the Apollo Belvedere, then
in the gallery of the Louvre, she exclaimed, after a
long pause, " How great must be the Being who
sreated the genius which produced such a form as
this ! " — a thought characteristic of her mind, but

* An e;i!-irEtDeii hu Left u a Tcry gnidUa dafcripfloD of lb«
BDPTgy with Hbicb, even in old age, Michael Aogelo bandied bll
BblHl I ** I cau aay Lhat I haw asen ML^ha^ Angvlo at the age of

!h iBiphed him, Ihli (rest n>

I

KlCBiXL ANOELO, 215

more fitly inHpirad bj tlie worka of Micbael Angalo
than by tlioaa of anj artist tba world has yet Eeen,
They bear imprsssed upon tbem a cburacter of great-
ness, uf durability, of sublimity of ioTBotion, and
ooDHunimate skill in contrivance, which tills the con-
templative mind, and leads it irreeistibly from the
created up to the Creator.

As our subject ia painting, not architecture, we
■hall not dwell much on this period of tbe life of
Michaal Angelo. In the year 1544, being then in
his aeventy-BGOond year, he was appointed to the
stEce of cLief architect of St. Peter'3 by Pope Paul
m., and he continued to dieuharge it through the
pontificataa of Julias HI., Piua !¥., and Pius V.
He accepted the office with reluctance, pleading his
great age, and the ul)stacles and difficulties be was
likely to meetiivith from the jealousies and intriguea
at bia ricals, and the ignorance and intermeddling
of the pope's officials. He solemnly called heaven
to witness that it was only from adeepsenBeof duly
that he yielded to the pope 'a wiahee ; and he proved
that thia waa no empty profession by constantly re-
fusing any sahiry or remuoeration. Notwithstand-
ing the ditficultiee he eocouDtered, the provocations
and the disgusts moat intolerable to his iiaughtj
imd impatient aptr it, be held on bis way with astern
perseTerunce till he hod seen hie great designs so fat
«UTiedaut that they could not be wholly abandoned
0r perverted by his successors.*

I

216 B4KLI ITILIAM PAIHTEBS.

When hie sovereign the Grand Dulte at Florenot
sndeavored, bjtbe most munificent oBarsand prom-
isee, tu attract bim to his court, he oODstantl^
pleaded that U> leave his great worlc unaccom-
pliahed would be, on his part, " a sin, a shtinir
and the ruin of the greatest religious noDument
in Christian Europe." Michael Angelo considered
that ho was engaged in a work of pietj, and foi
this reason, "for his own honor and the honor of
God," he refused all emolument.

It appears, from the evidenoe of contemporaiy
WTit«rs, that in tlie last jeors of his life the ao
knowledged worth and genius of Michael Angelo,
his wide-Hpread fame, and his unblemished integrity,
oomhined with hisTenerobleageand the haughtiness
and reserve of his deportment to invest Lim vrith a
eort of princelj dignity. It is recorded that when ha
waited on Pope Julius lU. to receive his commands,
the pontiff rose on his approach, seated hiin, inspita
of hia excuses, on liisrigLt hand; andwhilen trourd
of cardinals, prelates, ambassadors, were standing
round at bumble distance, carried on the confer-
ence, as equal with equal. The Grand Duke Cosmo
I. alwuje uncovered in his presence, and stood with
Ais hat in his hand while speaking to him.

One of the moat beautiful anecdotes recorded of
Biicliaol Angdo in hia later years, and one of the
very few amiable traits in his character was bis

217

Iitroag and generous attachmeDt to his old serrniit
Urbino. One day, as Urbioo etood by liim while he
worked, he euid to liim, " My poor Urbino ! whut
wilt thou dowhanlamgoDe?"— "Alaal " replied
Urbioo. " I DiueC tbeo seek another miiGter ! " —
" Nil," replied Michael Angelo, " that shall never
be ] " and he immediately presented him with two
thousand crowns, thus rendering him independent
of himself and others. Urbino, however, continued
in his service ; and when seized with liis lust Illness,
Michael Angelo, the stern, the earcoBtic, the over-
bearing Michael Angelo, nursed him with the ten-
derness and patience of a mother, sleeping in his
clothes on a couch tliat ha might be ever near him.
The old man died, at last, leaving hia nuLstor almost
inconsolable. " My Urbino is dead," he writes to
Vaeari, " to my infinite grief and sorrow. Living.

I he served me truly, and In his death he taught me
how to die. I have now no other hope than to
rejoin him in FariLdise ! "
The arrogance imputed to Michael Angelo seema
rather to liave arisen from a contempt for others,
than from any overweening opinion of himself. He
Tas too proud to be vain. He had placed his stan-
dard of perfection so high, that to the latest hour
of hislife ha considered himself as striving after that
ideal excellence which had been revealed to him, but
to which he conceived that others were blind or in-
different. In allusion to his own imperfectionB, ha
made a drawing, since become famous, which repre

tlS XA]tI.T ITALUH PAIHTERS.

Mute ui hffii mAD in a go-cart, and andomeoUi tlu
words "Ancora impara" («ill leanitng)

Ba coDtiDDed to labor unremittingly, and with
tfao aams reaolute energy of mind and purpose, till
ttie gnidunl decay uf bis strcnglb warned liim of hii
kpproiicliing end. He did not EoBTer frum any par-
Uoalar nuiladj, and his mind wns strong and clear
to tbe last, lie died at Rome, on tbe ITth uf Feb-
ruary, 1553, in the eighty-ninth year of hia itge.
A few days before hia death, he dictated his will in
them few, atnipla words : ■' I bequeath my eunl to
God, my body to the earth, and my posBeeaicins to
tuy nearest reLitiona." Wm nephew, Lionordo BU'
onaroti, who was his principal heir, by the orders
of tbe Grand Dulie Cosmo had his remains stwrotly
conveyed out of Rome and brought to Florenoe;
they were with due honors dopoHited in the cburah
of Santa Croce, under a costly monument, on which
we may see hia noble bust surrounded by three very
wnnmonplace and ill-executod statuee repreaenting
tha arts in wbieh he excelled — Fainting. Sculpture,
uid ArohiCecture. They might have added Poclry;
Ibr Michael Angela waa eu Gne a poet tliat bis pro-
dnoUuns would have given bim (ame, though he lind
never peopled the Sistine with hiB giant creations,
nor " m»pcnikd the Pantheon in the air.''' The

WCHABL ANGELO. 'IIH

algect to which Lis poems are ohieflj addreesod,
Vittoria Colunna, MarchioiicBB of Foscara, noa thfl
widow of the celebrated commander who overcame
Francis I. at tlie battle of Pavia ; herself a poetess,
and one of the most celebrated women of her time for
beaut;, Culenta, virtue, and piety. She died in 1547.
Soreral of Michael Angela's sonnets have been trana-
lated bj Wordsworth, and a selectioo of hia poems,
with a very learned and eluquent introductiun, has
been published by Mr. John Edward Taylor, in m
little volume entitled " Michael Angelo a. Poet."

It must be borne in reooUection that the pictures
ueribed to Michael Angelo in catalogues and pic-
ture galleries are ia every instance copies made by
bifl scholars from hie designs and models. Only one
aasel picture is acknowledged as the genuine pro-
duction of his hand. It ia a Ifoty Family in the
Florentine gallery, which as a composition is very
exaggerateij and ungraceful, and in color hard and
riolent. It ia painted in distemper, ramished ; not
in oils, as eome have supposed.

MiECBLWJ VBfiusTt was Continually employed in
axeouting small pictures from celebrateii cartoons of
Michael Angolo ; and the diminutive sine, and soft,
neat, delicate execution, form a singular uontrost
with the sublimity of the composition and the grand
msasive drawing of the liguree. One of these sub-
jects is the Virgin seated at the foot of the Crow,
Anielohitd uld, dd buhb dccuIod, ^ I vID tjilu Um ruthooDuA

22U

EARLY ITALIAN PAIN'TEBE.

holding on her lap ths (lend Redeemer, whoee arm
ue suppkirted b; two angels : iunuineralile ilupli-
c&tea and engraviiiga enist of tLis compusition (ime
uqnuita example is in the Queen's ga]ler;in Buck-
inghom Putaee) ; also or the Cliriat on the CroM,
with the Virgin and St. John standing and two an-
gelB looking out of the eVy Iwhind, with an eiprw-
aioQ of intonse anguish (one of theee, a, lerj Gat
axamplo, was lateljeold in the Lucca gullory). An-
other is II SileQiio, TAe SiUna. The Virgin ia repre-
Mnted with the infant Christ lying across her knee,
¥rith his ariu hanging down ; she btiB a book in one
hand ; behind her on one side is the jonng St. John
in the panther'a akin, with hie finger on his lipa ; on
the other, St. Joseph. The Annunciation, in which
the figure of the Vii^n is porticularl; majestic, ia a
fourth. Copies of these subjoots, with trifling varia-
tions, are t« he found in monj galleries, and Uia
engravings of all are in the British Museum.

Sebastun del FiOHQO was another artist who
piun ted under the direction and trom the cartoon!
of Michael Angelo ; and the most funouB example
of this union of talent is the Raising of LaxuruH,
in our National Gallery. '* Sebastian," sajs I^nsi,
*' was without the gift of invention, and in compo-
sitions of manj figures slow and irresolute ; " bat
he nas a consummate portrait painter, and a most
admirable colorist, A Venetian h; birth, he had
learned the art of coloring under Giorgione. Oa
aoming to Home in 1513, he formod a close iutimao|

UIOnAEL ANQBLO. 221

Wltb Michael Angelo ; the tradition ia, tLut Michael
Angela uaiociuted Sehastlitna with himself, and gave
him the cartoonB of his grand doaigns, to which the
VeneCiaa was (o lend the magical hues of his palletCa
for the purpoaeof crushing Raphael. If this tradi-
tion he true, the fiiilure was signal and deserved ;
but luckily we are not Migcd tu heliere it. It reeta
on no authoritj worthy of credit.

Omcopo Pon'torho painted the VeauB and Cupid
now at Hampton Court, from a famous cartoon of
Michael Angelo ; and alsu a Leda, which is in the
National Gallery, and of which the cartoon, bj
Michael Angelo, is in our Royal Academy.

But the moet celebrated and the most independent
among tha scholars and imitators of Michael Angelo
waa Djm£L oa Volterra, whose most famous work
is thfl Taking down the Saviour from the Cross, with
a niunber of figures full of energy and movement.

GioRcio Tasari was a pupil and especial Givorita
of Michael Angelo ; ha wua a painter and architect
of second-rate merit. He has, however, earned him-
self an immortalily by hie admirable biography of
the painters, sculptors, and architects of Italy, from
the earliest times to the death of Michael Angelo,
whom he aurvived only ten years. A large picture
by Vosari, representing the sa great poets of Italy,
b in the gallery of Mr. Hope.

It is not necessary to say anything here of thfl
painters who, in the middle of the sixteenth cen-
sury, and in the lifetime of Michael Angelo, imi

222 XABLT UCAUAN PAIMTXB8.

fated his manner. Thej were mere joameyme&i
and, indeed, imitated him most abominablj ; mis-
taking extravagance for sublimity, exaggeration for
grandeur, and distortion and affectation for energy
and passion, — a wretched set ! But, before wo
leave Florence, we must speak of one more artist,
whose proper place is here, because he was a Flor*
entine, and because he combined in a singular man-
ner the characteristics of the three great men of
whom we have last spoken, — Lionardo da Vinci, Fra
Bartolomeo, and Michael Angelo, — without exactly
imitating or equalling any one of them. This wai
Andrea del Sarto, a great artist ; but who would
have been a hi greater artist had he been a beitaf

I

I

L Tankucui was the eon of a tsilor (in
ttoliaa Sarto) ; henca the appeUation by which he
WHS earlj known, aoA has Bince became celebrated.
He was boTD in 14TS, and, lika many others, began
life as a, goIdamLtli and chaser in metal, hut, soon
torning his attention to painting, and studjing in-
deftttigabl;, be attained ao much excellence that ha
was called in hie oirn time " Andrea eenza errari,"
that ie, Andrea the FauUlai. He is certiiini; one
of the moet fascinating uf piintcrs ; but In all his
picturcB, even the finest, while we are etruck hy
the elegance of the heads and the maji^Btj of the
figoree, we feel the want of anj real elevation of
Bentiment and expresaion. It would be diffiiiult to
point out anj picture of Andrea del Sarto which
has either eimplicitj or devotional feeling.

A roan poeseswid of genius and industry, loving
his art, and crowned with early fame and snceaae,
ought to have been through life a prosperous and
ft happy man. Andrea woe neither. He wag
nieerable, unfortunate, and contemned, through
bis own fault or foUj. He loived a beautiful

224 BARLI ITiU

womao of infamouH cimractar, who was tlie wife of
& batter ; and od tbo doath of ber baabaud, ia
spile of her bud lOputSitioD and tbe warning of hts
beet {riendB, he married her. From that hour ba
Dsret had a quiet heart, or botae, or conscieDce.
He hod hitherto supported his old lather and
mother. She prevailed on bim to forsake them.
His friends stood aloof, pitying and dcepising hia
degradation. Hia echolara (and furmarl; tba most
promising of the joung artista of that time bad
bwii emulous for the honor of his instructions) nov
fell off, unable to bear the detestable temper of tba
woman who governed bis bouse. Tired of this ex-
istence, he accepted reodilj an invitation from
Francis I., who, on lits arrival at Paris, loaded him
with favor and distinction ; but after a time, bis
wife, finding she had no longer the same command
over hia purse or his proceedings, summoned bim
to return. Ho bad entered into such engagements
with Francis I. that this was not easy : but, as iat
pleaded his domeatio poaition, and promised, and
even took an oath on the Gospel, that he would re-
turn in a few months, bringing with him his wife,
the king gave him license Co depart, and even io-
truBted him with a large sum of mooej to be ex-
pended in certain specified objects.

Andrea hastened to Florence, and there, andei
the intluence of- hia infiimaua wife, he embezzled
the moncj, which was wasted in hie own and hei
extravagance i and be never returned Co France ta

ANDBBA DEI, SARia. 225

keep hiiJ oath and engagoinonts. But, though ho
had been weak and wic:ked enough to ooinmit this
orime, he had sufGcieDt eeosibilitj to feel aeutelj
the diegraco which was the consequence. It
preyed on hid mind, and embittered the rest of hia
life. The QT&rice and inGdelit? of his wife added
to hie BufibringH. He continued to paint, however,
and improved to the last in eorrectneas of Btjle and
beaulj of color.

In the year 1530 he was attacked by a conta-
gious disorder. Abandoned on hia death-bed by the
woman to whom he had eacri^ced honor, fame, and
friends, he died miserably, and was burled hastily,
and without the usual ceremonies of the church, id
the same conTent of the Nunziata which he ha4
adorned with hie works.

Andrea del Sarto can only be estimated ae a
painter by tliose who have visited Florence. Fine
BB ore his oil- pictured, l:ie paintings in fresco are
■till finer. One of these, a Repose of the Uolj
Family, has been celebrated, for the last two cen-
turies, under the title of the Madonna del Saeeo,
because Joseph is represented leaning on a sack.
There are engravings of it in the British Museum.

The cloisters of the convent of the Nunziata, and
K building called the Scako, at Florence, contain
hia most admired works. His finest picture in oil
ia in the Florence Gallery, in the cabinet called the
Tribune, where it hangs behind the Venus do"
Uedici. It represents the Virgin seated on a
IS

226 BAB1.T R&UAM FAINTBBa.

throne, with St. Jolin the Baptist BUoding on on*
■ide, and St. Francis on the otbsr ; a pintiire of
wonderTuI majeetj ftnd beaut;. In gtmerul hia
MadoDoafi ore not pleasing. Thaj have, with great
beaut;, a certain vulgaritj of eiproBsion ; and in
hia groups be almoat alwaja placea tbe Virgin on
the ground, nther kneeling or Bitting. HJs onlj
modcd for all his Temalee was his wife ; and even
when he did not paint from her, she so po^seeeed
bis thoughts that unoonscionslj he repeated the
•ame featoKe in ever; face he drew, whether Vir-
gin, or sunt, or goddasa. Pictures hj Anurea del
Sarto are to be found in almost all galleriea, but
mrg fine examples of his art are rare out of Flor-
ence. The picture in our National OaUer; at-
tributed to him is verr unworthj of bis reputation.
Thoee at Hampton Court are not better. Thore la
a fine portrait at Windsor, called the Gardener of
the Duke of Florence, attributed to him ; and a
female bead, a sketch full of nature and pon-er. In
the Louvre is the picture of Charily, No, 85,
painted for Francis I. when Andrea was at Fon-
tainebleao in 1513, and three otbers. Lord West-
minster, I/nd Lansdonne, ilr. Munroe of Park-
itreet, and Lord Cowper in bis collection at Pan-
ihanger, poaseea the linest examples of Andrea del
Sarto wluch are in England. At Panshanger there
is a lerj fine portrait of Andrea del Sarto by him-
nlf. He la repr(«eDted as standing b; a table at
which he has been writing, and looking up (rixo

ANDRKA DEL SABTO. 227

the letter which lies before him. The figure is half«
length, and the countenance noble, but profoundlj
melancholj. One might &ncy that he had been
writing to his wi&.^

RAPHAEL SANZIO D'URBINO.

Born 1488, died 1S20.

M\i have spoken at length of twc among th«
great men who influenced the progrees of art in the
beginning of the sixteenth century, — Lionardo da
Vinci and Michael Angelo. The third and greatest
name was that of Raphael.

In speaking of this wonderful man we shall be
more diffuse and enter more into detail than usual.
How can we treat, in a small compass, of him whose
&me has filled the universe? In the history of
Italian art he stands alone, like Shakspeare in the
history of our literature ; and he takes the same
kind of rank — a superiority not merely of degree
but of quality. Everybody has heard of Raphael ;
every one has attached some associations of excel
lence and beauty, more or less defined, to that
fitmiliar name ; but it is necessary to have studied
profoundly the history of art, and to have an inti-
mate acquaintance with the productions of contem-
porary and succeeding artists, to form any just idea
of the wide and lasting influence exercised by this
harmonious and powerful genius. His works have
been an inexhaustible storehouse of ideas to paint*

(228)

ptPHtET. BANZIO S ITKBIHO 'i'£ii

and to poets. Everywliere in art wi find his
tnieaH. Everywhere we reuogniae his fonos and
linee, borrowed or atolen, reproduced, varied, imi-
tated — never improTed. Some critie once said,
" Sliow me any Bentiment or feeling in any poet,
andent or modera, and I will eliowyou tlio samo
thing either as well or better expreaaed in Shak-
flpeare." In the same manner one might say,
"Show me in any painter, ancient or modern, any
«Bp«cial beauty of form, oxpreaeion, or Bentiment,
uid in eome picture, drawing, or print, alW
Baphad, I will show you the Bftme thing as well or
better dono, and that accomplished which otheni
have o.ily sought or attempted." To complete our
idea of this rare union of greatness and TOTsatilitj
OS an artist with all that could grace and dignify
the man, ne must add such personal qualities sa
Tery seldom meet in the same individual — a bright,
generous, genial, gentle spirit ; the most attractirt)
manners, the most vrinning modesty,

'< Uia heavenl? fa/x the mirror of hia mind ;
His mind a templi. for all laval; tbiaga
Toflookto, andinbftbit ;" —

mnd we shall have a picture in our fkncy mora
resembling that of an antique divinity, a young
Apollo, than a real human oeing. There was a
vulgar idea at one time prevalent that Raphael was
1 man of vicious and dissipated habits, and even
died a victim to his excesses. This slander haa

I

mo UBLI lULUN PAINTEKS.

been ulaooed tocevec hj indinputable evidence to
tbe contrarj, and now we may TO&ect with pleasure
that uothing reete on eurer evidence than the ad-
miittble qaatitiee of Raphael ; that no cartMj ie>
noun waa erer bo ansullied bj reproach, eo yiBti-
fied by merit, so oonCnned by concurrent opinion,
■0 eet&bltahcd hj time. The short life of Raphael
wa< one of incasBaiit and peiserering study. lie
epemt one-hnlf of it io acquiring that practical
knowledge, and that mechanical doxterilj of hand,
which were necessarj before he could embody in
forms and colors the rich creations of hia wonderful
mind ; and when he died, at the age of thirl^-
Mven, he left behind him two hundred and eightj.
Mven pictures, and £ve hundred and seventy-six
drawings and Htudies. If we reSect for ana moment,
we must be convinced that such a man aniid not
have heea idle and dissipated ; for we must alveaja
take into consideration that an excelling painter
muat be not only a poet in mind, but a ready and
perfect artificer ; and that, though nature maj
bestow the " geniua and the faculty divine," onlj
time, practice, assiduous industry, can give the ex>
act and cunning band. "An author," as Ricb>
urdson observes, " must ikink, but it ia no matter
what character he writes; he has no care about
that, If what be writes be l^ible. A curioui
mechanic's hand muitt be exquisite ; but hie
thoughts maybe at liberty." The painter must
think and invent with his fancy, and what hil

bai\y mrenta hja baai must acquire the poner t>
eiecuto, or vain is tiia power of croative thought-
It has been ubserved — thuugh Raphael w^ un-
happtlj an exception — that painters are generally
long-lived and healtliy ; and that, of all the profaes-
ors of Ecience and art, they are the least liable to
alienation of mind or morbid effects of the brain.
One reason may be, that through the udiod of the
opposite facuhies of tiie eicureiTe foncj and me-
chanic skill, — head and hand baiancing each other,
— a sort of harmODj in their ulternate or coeSciant
exerciBB is preserved habitually, whicb reacts oa
the whole moral and physical being. As Raphael
carried to the highest petfection the union of those
&cultieB of head and bund which constitute the
complete artist, so this harmony pervaded his whole
being, and nothing deformed or diauordant could
enter there. In aU the portraits which exist of
him, from infancy to manhood, there is a divine
Bweetness and repoae. The little ubeiub faea of
three years old is not more serene and angelic than
the eame features at thirty. The child whom
father and mother, guurdian and Htep-uotber,
taressed and idolized in bis loving innocence, wag
the eame being whom we see in tlie prime of man-
hood subduing and reiguing overall hearts, so that,
Eo borrow the worda of a contj;mporary, " not ontj
all man, but tlie very brutes, loved him : " the only
rery distinguished man of whom we read who lived
and died without an enemy or a detractor !

SIS KABLI lltUAK PIU'TSBA. ■

Bofhiel Saiuao or Suiti ma bom in the ci^ of ■
Urbino. on Good Friday, in tha jear 1483. lib I

fttbar, Gbrumi Santi, was a puotai of du meaji
tolent, who held & reepectablB rank in his nativa
ci^, &iid wu miicb eeteemod by tba Dukee Fred-
wigu and Guidubaldo of Urbioo, both of whom
played a very imporCuDt paxt in the history of Italy

■ bttmea Uli and 1494. Tb« name of Baphoel'i

mother inu Magia, and the house in which he xaa
boni in still staodiiig, and regarded by tbe cildisni
of Ur'^ino with just Tooeratiun. He was only eight
yeari old when he luat his mother, bat his flttbet*!
eecond wife, Bemardina, well supplied her place,
and loTed him and tended him as if be bad been
bcc own son. His fiktber was his first instmctor,
and very aoon the young pupil was not only able
to assist him in his works, but showed each extraor-
dinary talent tbat Giovanni deemed it right to giv«
faim the advantage ofbetter leaching than his ovni.
Pemglno was the moat celebrated mOBter of that
time, and Giovanni travelled to Porogia to maka
arrangements fur placing Raphael under his care ;
bat before these arrangements were completed this
good father died, in jlugust, 1494. His wiahei
ware, however, carried into execution by his widow
and by his wife's brother, Simone Ciarla ; and
Bapfaoel was sent to study under Perugiao, in 1495
being then twelve years old.

He remained in this school till be was nearly
twenty, and was chiefly employed in assisting bl|

I

I ''APHAKi. siszro d'chbiko. 233

■aatei. A few plcturefl pamtsd between liU six-
twnth ari twentieth jear htive been authenticated
by curefi'l reaearch, and ate very interesting from
being esHentially characteriiitic. Thero ta, "if courw,
the maiinec of bis moEler Perugino, but mingled
with Bume of those qualities which wore particu-
larly Ilia own, and which his after life developed
into excellence ; and nothing in these eurly plcturai
if) BO remarkable as the gmdunl improyement of hie
■tfle, and hie young predilection for his favorite sub-
ject, the Madonna and Child. The most celebrated
of all hia pictures painted in the Bcbool of Perugino
vroa one representing the Marriage of the Virgin
Uary to Joseph — a, Bubject which is very common
in Italian art, and called Lo Bposallzio (the Espou-
■als). This beautiful picture is preserved in tha
Oallerj at Milan. There ia a large and fine engrar-
ing of it by Longhi, which can bo seen in any good
print-ehop. In the same year that he painted this
picture (1504), Haphud viaited Florence for the
ftret time. He carried with him a letter of recom-
'nendation from Giovonna, Duchess of Sara, and
ister of the Duke of Urbino, to Soderini, who had
noceeded the exiled Medici in the gevercment af
Florence. In thia letter tbe duchees styles him " a
discreet and amiable youth," to whom she was
ftttouhed for bis father's Bake and tor his own good
qualitiee, and she requests that Soderini will laT<»
Vtd aid bim in hia [lursuita. Raphael did not re-
n&in lung at Florence in this first viait, but he modi

the aoqunintanco of Fia Bartolomeo and Bidolft
Ohirlandnjo, and saw some cartoons b; Lion&rdc
da Vinci and Michael Aagelo, whiob filled his mind
fritli new and bold ideaa both of form and compo

lition. In the following year lie was omplojed in
exaauting several large pictures for vario us chiirohM
at Perugia. One of these, a large altar-piMe,
painted for the ctiurcb of the Sorvite, ia novr at
Blenheim ; it is fullof beaii^ and dignity. Beneath
it was a tittle pictum of St. John preaehing in tb«
WildornoBs, vbicli ia in the po^eeaion of I/}rd lulls'
same time he painted for him-
liniuture called the Dream of
a which he repreeenia a youth
finion two female figures, one
aaure, the other, with a book
and Bword, inviting him to atudj and to strive fjr
wcoellence. This is now in England, in the pueseb-
aion of Ladj Sykae. It has been lately engraved in
Kn exquisite Btyle by Mr. L. Griiner.

When he had finished these and other works, he

returned to Florence, and remained there till 1908.

Same of the most exquisite of hia works may b«

referred to this period of his life, that is, before be

was five-nnd-twonty.

One of these is the Madonna Bitting ander tbe
Palm-tree, while Joseph preaonts flowera to the Ilk-
&nt Christ. This may be seen in the Bridgewataf
Gallery. A second is the Madonna in the posse*
tion of Earl Cowper, and now at Panshanger

downe. About the
self a lovely little t
the Toung Knight,
armed, who sees in e
alluring him to pli

aAFHABL bjuizjo d'usbino. 235

Another ia the famoua MaduQDa in the Florentina
Oallei;, ciiUfld the Madonna del Cardellino (the
Virgin of the Goldfinch), because Che little St.
John is preeenting a goldfinch to urn Infant Chriat,
Another, as famous, now in the Luuvre, called La
Belle Jardiniitre, because ths Madonna is seated in
a garden amid flovrera, with Christ atanding nt her
knee. The St. Catherine in our National Gallery
waa also painted about the aamo period ; and the
little picture of St. George and the Dragon, which
Guidohaldo, Duke of Urbino, sent as a present to
Henry VII., and which is now at St. Petersburg,
In thia picture St. George ia armed with a lance,
and has the Garter round his knee, with the
inaoription "Honi aoit qui mal y pense." There
IB another little St. George in the Louvre, in which
the saint is about to alay the dragon with a aword.
And there are, beaidea, two or throe largo altar-
pieoes and eome beautiful portraits ; in all about
thirty picturea painted during the throe yeara he
spent at Florence.

In his twenty-fifth year, when Fra Bartolomw)
Lionardo da Vinci, and Michael Angela, were all
tt the height of their fame, and many years older
than himself, the young liaphael had already be
eome celebrated from one end of Italy to the other.
&t this time Julias II. was pope. Of his extraor-
iin&iy and enei^tic character we have alreordj

l!S6 CAKLY ITAU

■pokan ftt longth, in the life of Micbiiel Angtilii
At thfl aga of Bsrentj he wm reioliing plana fol
tho aggnndiiemeat of his power and the emtMllieh-
m«nt of the Vatican which it woald have tnken ■
loDg life to leaJize. Consciaue that the time before
hira wag to be measured b; months rather than bj
jnon, and ambitioua to coniwntrate in his own per-
WQ all the glorj that mast ensue from such mag-
bifitient work*, he listened to no obstacles, be woald
endure no delajv, he apared no expense, in bis on-
dertakinga. Br&mante, the greatest architect, and
Michael Angelo, the greatest sculptor, in Italj, were
ftlread^f in bis service. Lionardo da Tlnci was then
mployed in pulilic fforlcB at Florence, and could
not be engaged ; and he therefore sent for Haphaal
to undertake the decoration of those halls in th«
Vatican which Pope Nicholas V. and Sixtus IV.
bad begun and left unfiniahod. The inTitation, or
rather order, of the pope, was as usual so nrgenfrand
■o peremptory, that Raphael hurried from Florenoe,
'eaving bis friends Bartolomeo and Obirlandajo to
complete his unfinished pictures, and immediatelj
on his arrival at Home he commenced the greatest
of his works, the Chambers {Cmnere) of the Vat-

Ir general, when Raphael undertook an j great
work illustrative of sacred or pro&ne hiatorj', ha
did not hesitate to nek advice of bis learned and
literary friends on points of costume or chronol-
ogy. Bnt when he began his paintings in tha

^ VilH.

SAFBA£L BANZIO C'nBBIHO. 237

Vatican ba was wliollj unassiBted, arid the plan
wbich be laid before the pope, and which was im*
nediatelj approved and adopted, ebons that the
grasp and cultivation of his mind equalled hii
poweiB aa a painter. lie dedicated thia Stat m-
liyrn, called in Italian the Camera della SegnaCora,
tj the glotj of those high intellectual pursaiti
whiah maj be said to embrace in some form or
other all human culture — he rcprcseoted Theol-
ogy, Poetry, PhUoHophy, and Jurisprudence.

.And first on the ceiling be painted in four circlea
fbnt! all^orical female figures with choracteristio
^ftabols, throned amid clouds, and attended by
beautiful genii. Of these, tho figure of Poetry is
dietingnifihed by auperior grandeur and inspira-
tion. Beneath these figures and on the four sides
•f the room be painted four great picturea, each
about fifteen feet liigb by twenty or twenty-live feet
mde, the subjects illustrating historically the four
ftllc^ricol Gguree above. Under Theology be placed
tiie Domposition called La Disputa, that is, the ar-
gument ooncemiug the holy sacrament. In the
npp^ part is tlie heavenly glory, the Redeemer in
the centre, beside him the Virgin mother. On thtt
tight and left, arranged in a semicircle, patriarchs,
Bpoetles, and saints, all seated ; all full of chatao-
tor, dignity, and a kind of celestial repose befitting
their beatitude, Angels are hovering round ; four
nf them, durrounding the emblematic Dove, bold
die Gospela. In the loner half of the picture an

I

2SS KABLT ITALIAH PAINTEBS.

MBembled tbe ralebnitod doctora asd teacheib of tba
CbuTcb, grand, aolflmn, meditative fignreB ; hodM
Mkrching thair books, eome lost in thougbt, eome
•ngoged in colloquy eublime. And on each side, a
little lower, groups of diedples and liBtenen, ereiy
h«u] andfigoreastudjof cbaractor andexpreesion,
— all difiereat, all full of nature, animation, and
lignificance ; and tbus the two parts of this magnifi-
oent oomposition, the heavonl; beatitude above, (lie
mystery of bith below, combine into one compre-
benaive whole. This picture contains about fifty
full-length figures.

Under Poetry we have Mount ParnaeauB. Apolla
and the Aluaee are seen on the summit. On one
ude, near them, the epie and tragic poets. Homer,
Virgil, Dante. (Ariosto bad not written bis poem
ftt tbis time, and Milton and Taeeo were yet unborn.)
Below, on each side, are the lyrical poets, Petrarob,
Sappho, Corinna, Pindar, Horace. Tbe arrange-
ment, grouping, and character, are most admirabla
and grooeful ; but Raphael's original design for
this composition, as we have it engraved by Maro
Antonio, is finer than the fresco, in which there
ue many alterations which cannot he considered Bl
tmprovementfl.

Under Philosophy ha has placed the School of
Athens. It repreeente a grand hall or portico, in
vbich a flight of steps separatee the foreground
from the background. Conspicuous, and above the
rest, are the elder intellectual phlloHopbers, Plato

BAFOAEL BANzio DTjasrao 2il9

AlJatotle, SocrateB : Pluto characteriBticallj point-
mg upwurda tu heaven ; Arislutla pumCing to the
Bwth ; Sooratea impresBivelj discoursing to the Ufr
tanera bout him.

TheD, on a lower plan, ne hare the Sciencee and
Arts, represented by PjthagoroB and Archimedes ;
Zoroaster, and Ptolemj the geographer ; whila
ftlone, as if avoiding and avoided bj all, aita Diog-
enee the Cynic. Raphael has represented the ait
of painting by the figure of his master Perugioo,
Uid has introduced a portrait of himself humbly
following him. The group of Archimedes (nboH
head is a portrait of Bramiinte, the architect) but*
roandod by hia acholara, who are attentively watch-
ing him as he draws a geometrical figure, is one of
thefinest things which Raphael aver conceived ; and
the whole composition has in its regularity and
grandeur a variety and dramatic vivacity which
relieve it from ail formality. This picture olao
oontains not less than fifty Ggures,

tAw, or Jurisprudence, from the particular coa-
itruction of the wall on which the subject is painted,
IB represented with lees completeness, and ia broksn
np into divisions. Prudence, Fortitude, and Tem-
perance, are above ; helow, on one eide, ia Pops
Gregory delivering the eccleeiostical law ; and an
the other, Justinian promulgating his famous coda
1 law. The whole decoration of this chambv
a grand allegory of the domain of bumaa

i40 RABLY ITIL

inlellect, eliadowed forth in creations of surpamiiijf
beaiitj and dignitj.

The description here given is necessarily brief
and imperfact. We adTise our roadarB to consult
Ibe eDgraYings of these freecoes, and with the aboYS
ezplanutiun the; will prohobljbe intelligible; at all
eYeota, the wonderfull j pioliflc geniuHol the pointor
will be apprcciutad, ia the number of the petaon-
ages introduced and the appropriate cboraotera ot

About thin time Raphael painted that portrait of
Julius II., of which a dupUi.'ate is in our National
Qallerj. No one who has studied the hiBlorj of
tbia eitroordinar; old man, and his relations with
Michael Angelo and Rjtphaal, Ran look apon it
without interest. Another fine daplicate is in tha
gallery of Mr. Miles, at Leigh Court, near Bris-
tol. The original is in the Pitti Palace at Flor

Also at this time Baphool painted the portrait
of himself, which is preserved in the Gallery of
Painters at Florence ; it repreeents him as a very
handaorae joung man, with luxuriant hair and dark
ejes, lull lips, and a pensive yet benign couiit»-
nance.* To this period we may also refer a num-
ber of beautiful Madonnas ; Lord Gsrvagh's, called
the Aldobrandini Madonna ; tlie Virgin of the

• TbBiT li ■□ tDBTBiliig I17 I'dnlloi. The bad «!

I

BAPHABI, SANZIO d'DBBINO 241

Bridgewater Gu.llerj ; the Vierga an Diadcme in
the Louvra ; and the jet more famoua Sludonna di
Fuljgno, now at Eome in the VaticuiQ.

While employed for Pupa Julius in executing the
freacoes already deecribed, Ruphael found a mu-
nificent friend and patron in Agostlno Chigi, a rich
baokerandmerchant, who was then living at Home
in great spleudor. He piktnted aereral pictures toi
hiiu: the four Sibyls in the chapel of the Chigi
&milj, in the church of Santa Maria della Pace, —
Bublime figures, full of graudouc and inspiiadon;
and, on the wall of a chamber in hin pahico, that
&eeou the Triumph of Qalataa, trail knuwu {ram
the numerona engravings.

About the yeur 1510 Eaphael began the decora-
tion of the Bocund chamber of the Vatican. In thia
Kries of compoBitioiiB he represented the power and
glorj of the Church, and her mintculouB deli vorancea
Etota her secular enemies : all these being an in-
direct honor paid to, or rather claimed bj JuUuB
II.,who made it a aubjeot of pride that he had not
onlv expelled all enemies from the Papal territorieB,
but also enlarged their boundariea — by no scrnpu-
bus means. On the ceiling of this room are four
beautiful pictiiree — the prom«es of God to tbo
four Patriarchs, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, and
Mosea. On the four aide walls, the Expulsion of
Heliodorus from the Temple at Joruealcm ; the
Uiracle of Bolsena, bj which, as it was said, here-
GcB were silenced ; Attila, King of the Unas, tar'
1C

1

I

I
I

I

142 CABLI ITALUH FATTTKBB.

rifled bj the apparition of St. Peter and St. Paul ;
■nd St. Peter delivered Criim Prison. Of tliese tht
Heliodorus is one of the grandest and most poetical
of ftll Raphael's creationi : the group of the celes-
tial warrior trampling on the prostrate Heliodonu,
with the aienging spirita rushing, floating along,
air-bome, to scou^e the deepoiler, is wonderful for
ita Bnpematural powers ; it is a vision of beauty
•nd terror.

Before tliis chamber was finished, Julius 11. died,
and was succoedcd bj Lao X. in 1513.

Though the character of Pope Leo X. was in all
Kspeote different from that of Julius, he was not
loB a, patron of Raphael than his prodeuessor bad
bwn i and certainly the number of learned and ao-
complislied men whom he attracted t« his court,
and the enthusiasm for classical learning which
prevailed among them, strongly influenced those
productions of liaphocl which date from the accoa-
Bion of Leo. They became more and more allied to
the antique, and leas and lees imbued with that
pure religious spirit wbicb we find in his earlier

Cardinal fiembo. Cardinal Bibiana, Count Cai-
tiglione, the poets Ariosto and Sanaii:aTO, ranked
at this time among Raphael's intimate Irienda.
With his celebrity his riches increased ; he built
himself a. fine house in that part of Bume called
the Borgo, between St. Peter's and the Castle of St.
&iigelo ; he bad numerous scholars from all paiti

BAPHAlfL StNZIO d'oRBINO. 243

of Italy, who attended on him with a love and
reveroQce and dutj Tar bejood the lip-and-kne«
homage which waits un princes ; and eucli tvua th«
influence of his benign and genial temper, tliut all
these joung men lived in the moat entire union and
friendship with him and with each other, nnd hia
school WAB never diatnrbed bj those aniinosltiee and
jealousies which before and aince have diagracad
the schools of art of Italy. All the other paint-
ers of that time were the friends rather than the
tivals of the supreme and gentle Baphael, with the
single exception of Michael Angelo.

About the period at which we are now arrived,
the beginning of the pontificate of Leo X., Michael
Aogelo had left Rome for Florence, aa it hits been
telatfld itt his life. Liomirdo da Vinci came to
Rome, bj the invitation of Leo, attended bj a train
of scholare, and lived on good terma with Raphael,
who treated the venerable old man with becoming
deference. Fra Bartolomeo also viaited Romeabout
1513, to the great joy of his friend. We find Ea,
pfaael at this time on terms of the tenderest friend-
■hip with Franoia, and in correspondence with
Albert Durer, for whom he entertained the highest
admiration.

Under Leo X. Raphael continued his great works
In the Vatican. He began the third hall or camera
in 1615. The ceiling of tliie chamber had been
painted by hie master Perugino for Siitua IV. ; and
Etaphael, irom a feeling of lespect for hia old

S44 BARLT ITiLIAS FAIMTKBa.

Kaster, voiilil not removs or paint trrer his work.
On the 'ides of the room he represented the jirin-
eipal eTento in the Uvl'b of Pope Leo III. and Pope
Leo rv., Hhaduwing forth iindHr their naniee tbo
glorf of hia patron Leo X. Of these pictures, tKa
looet rcQiarbtble Is that wliluh ia called in Italiim
L'liujendio del Borgo (the Fire in the Boi^).
Tbe8toT7 aajs that this populous part ofRamewna
on Ere in the time of Leo IT., and that the con-
flagration ira4 extinguished bj a miracle. In the
hurrj, confusian, and tumult, of the scene ; in the
men escaping half naked ; in the terrilicd groups
Msembled in the foreground ; in the woman car-
rying water ; we find erer; varietj of attitude and
emotion, expreesed with a perfect knowledge uf
form ; and Home of the figures exhihit the influence
of Michael Angelo'e ceiling of the Siatine Chapel,
already deficribed. This fresco, though ao fine in
point of drawing, is the worst colored of the wbola
(erins ; the beet in point areolar are the Heliudorua
and the Aliraclo of Bolaena.

The luet of the chaoihers in the Vatican is the
Hall of Conatantine, painted with sceuca from the
life of that emperor. The whole of these freficoM
having been executed by the Bcholare of Raphael,
(rom hig doetgna and cartoons, we shall nut dwell
on them here, only observing that an excellent
reduced copy of the finest of all, the Battle of Coa-
itontine and Masentios, may be seen at llomphw
Court.

r

245

I

tVliile Raphael, osBisted by hia scholarE, itas d^
ligoing and executing Ihe large frUBcoes In the Vati-
can, h« waa also engaged in many other works.
His ferlJo mind and roiidy hand were never idle,
and the number of original ereations of this won-
derful man, and the rapidity with whiuh they huo-
ceeded each other, are quite unexampled. Among
his moBt celebrated and popular compositioDB ia the
HerieH of subjects from the Old Teetument, called
"Eaphael'B Bible; " these were comparativoly
■mall pictures, adorning the thirteen cupolaa of the
"Loggie" of the Vatican. These "Loggie" are
open galleries, rurming round three sides of an open
court ; and the gallery on the second story is the
one painted under Raphael's direction. Up the
sides and round the windows are arabesque om».
menta, festoons of fruit, flowers, ttnimala, all com-
bined and grouped together with the most exquisite
and playful fancy. They have been much injured
by time, yet more by the barbarous treatment of
the French soldiery when Borne was sacked in 1327,
and worst cif all by unskilful attempts at restora-
tion. The pictures in the cupolas, being out of
reach, are better preserved. Sacred subjects were
never represented in so beautiful, so poetical, and
CO intelligible a manner as by Raphael ; but, as tho
eopies and engravings of these works are innumer-
able, and easily met with, we shall not enter into
k particular description of them ; very good copiei

216

SABI.I ITALLiK PALXTEBS,

bT M?eral naj be aeeu &t the NalioiuU School ol
Dawga at Somerset House.*

There was BtUl another great work fur the TaU-
osn intrusted to Raphael. The interior of the Sis-
tine Chapel had been onuunanted round the lowei
walla with paintingB ia imitatioa of tapMtriec
Leo X. resolved to sulj«tiCut« real draperieB of tba
most cuEtlj material ; and Baphael wb£ to furnisb
the aubjectd and drawings, which were to be copied
in the looms of FhinderB, and worked in a ciiitDrfl
of wool, eilk, and gold. Ihua originated the famoua
Cabtuons op Rapiiakl.

Iliejr were originaJij eleven in numbei, to 6t tba
ten oompartmenU into which the wall was divided
by OS manj pilasters, and the space over the altar.
£ight were large, one larger than the rest, and two
Bmall. Of the eleven cartoons designed bj Raphael,
four are lost, and seven remain, whiub ore cow in
the Rojol Gallery at Hampton Court. As thejr
tank among the greatest produotious of art, and
have boon for some time freely thrown open to the
public, we shall give a detailed account of them
here from Tarious source«,-|- and add some leuuvrka

Hjie, ud or t luge ilie, imt atl eiecnWd
dlnuj loif price oT sU Bugni^iiei for oL

rg from tbo icrin,

me iter Ihe oilgtml
lagL The lulJecM,

I

UPOAEL SAHZIO d'uBBINO. 24?

which maj eoahle the uninitiated to form a, jiidg-
niBQt of their charaotoriatic luecits, us woll aa to
appreciuto dulj the privilege which in a. wise, as
wall ax a right rojal and graci^uB Bpirit, has latelj
lieea oonceded to the people.

The intention in the whole series of aubjects was
*o eipreas the missioD, tlie eufferings, and the tti-
tunph, of the Chmtiaa church. Tlie Death of the
First Martjr, and tho Acta of tha two greut Apoa-
tlee, St. Peter and St. Paul, were ranged along the
Bidee to the right and left of the high altar ; while
over the altar waa the Cotonation of the Virgin, a
aubjeot which, as ws have already seen, woa alwajs
Bjiabolical of the triumph of religion. In the
original arrangement the tapestriee hung in the
following order : •

On the left of the altar — 1, The Miraculous
Draught of Fiahea (that U, the Calling of Peter) ;
2. The Charge to Peter ; 3. The Stoning of Ste-
phen ; 4, The Uealiug of the Lame Man j 5. The
Death of Ananias.

On the right of the altar — 1. The Conversion of
St. Paal; 2. Elymaa struck Blind; 3. Paul and

imln or Alt I " mid t rerj cIbtm aecounl of tha Curteoni whiok
tppOKA In Oie Pmny Masaiine lome feen a^o. Frnn all Uiru

Ami ft correcB and complela deectipllQa boUi of tbe CortogJU ftod

IH UpeRrj of (be CnnrnlDg U the Tlrglu euUrcl; ie

^V 248 ZAELT ITALUN rAINTSBS. I

B&rn&hna at LjsCra ; 4. Paul preaching at MheM' I

I

S. Paul in PriHuii. All along underneath run a
rich border in chinro'scuru, of it bruaie color, to-
lieved with guld, ropreeentiag on a amalli^r bcbIc
incideats in the life of Leo X., with omameDtol
>rab«eques, gruup« of sporting genii, Iruita, Qowers,
fto. ; and the pilasters batnean the tapestries were
klso adorned with riob arabeequee. Old oiigravinge
exist of some of these deeigna, which are among tba
most beautiful things in Italian art; as full of
grandeur and gntce as they are exquisitely liiadfiil
sad luxuriant.

The large cartoons of this series which are lost
are, the Stoniug of Stephen ; the Convera'on of St.
Paul ; Paul in his Dungeon at Philippi ; ood tht
Cfowning of the Virgin,

The seven which remain to u8 are arranged at
nampton Court without anj rogard either to th«r
original arrangomont or to chronologicul order.
Beginning at the door bj which we enter, thejeuO'
oeed each other thus :

1. TttK Death of Ananias,

Nine of the Apastles stand together on a raised
platform; St. Peter in the midst, with uplifted
bands, is in the act of speaking; on the right
Ananias lies prostrate on the earth, while a joung
Buut anl woman, on the left, are starting bauk-

I

AAPHAEL SANZIO Il'UKBINO. 249

with ghastly horror and wonder in ererj feature i
In tho background, to ths left, is seen Supphira,
who, unaware of the catastrophe of her hucband
and tho torribSa fate impending over her, is jinying
BOma monej with one hand, whilo sha iritliholds
Bome ill the other ; St. John and another ApoBtle
are on the left, diBtrihutiug alms. The figures are
Altogether twen^-four in number. Size, Beyontoeo
feet eiz inches bj eleven feet four inches.

As a composition, considered artistically, thia
eartoon holds the first place ; nothing has ecer ex-
ceeded it : only Raphael himself, in some of his
other works, has equalled it in the wondrous adnpb-
ation of the moans employed to tlio end in view.
By the circuUtr arrangement of the composition,
and hy elevating the figures behind above those in
front, the whole of the pereonages on the scene are
brought at once to eight. The elerat«d position
af Pater and James, though standing back irom
the foreground, and tlieir digiiiGed figures, contrast
■trongly with the abject form of Ananias, struck
down by the hand of God, helpless, and, aa it
■eeniB, quivering in every limb. Those of the spoo-
tator« who are near Ananias express their Iiorrot
and astonishment by the most various and appro-
priate eipra^ion.

" He falls," says Hazlitt, " so naturally, that !t
•eems as if a person could fall nt otiior way ; cid
yet, of all the ways in which a human figure could
bll, it is probably the most expressive of a persoa

I

mo &JIKLT IT. mi PktNTSBS.

ovonvheltned bj, sod in the grasp of, divine «■»
g««nce. This ia in aoae nussun the secret of
B&pliael's succea. Moat paiaten, in ntudjing u
ftt^tude, puzxle themaeltES to find oat what will b«
picturesque, iLDd what will be fins, and Dever dia-
eorer it. Kapbael onlj thought how a, person
would Htajid or iikll undsr such or such circnm-
•tonoea, and the pictureeqaa and the fine folluwed
ns a mati«T of courae. Hence the tmaOectod force
luid dignitj of bis stjle, which are only another
name for truth and nature undar impre^re anil
momentouB circumBtanoes."

We h«Te here an instance of that truljf Sbak-
■peoriuD art bj which Raphael alwa^ softena and
hdgbtaDS the effect of tragic terror. St. John, at
Ibe yery iustant when this awful judgment hai
Gillcn on the hypocrite and unbolieFcr, has bonignlj
turned to bestow alms and a blessing on the poor
good man before him.*

UUa flfiiore for Uie ir[f» ot
i ApproocbJoe ^c 'P"^ when

tar.biil vhDlIy onaoiadDiK of tboH Ju
KBOtlng IbiC Ko>d by whldb bolli ihe i

LEI. sANzio d'drbino, 251

t SOKCEBBR BTRDCK WITH BlIND-

nt ftlwnb SKkLiii

*;

The ProconBul SergiuB, seated no hie throoe, b^
holds with oatoaiBluucnt Elymas struck blind DJ
the word of the Apostle Paul, who staDils on tba
left ; an attendant is gazing with wonder in hii
tace, while eight persunB behind him ara all occu-
pied with the miraculous event wbiuh ia passing
before their ejea ; two lictoia are on the lefl ; in all
fourteen figures. Size, fourteen feet sSTen inches by
eleven feet four inches.

This cartoon, as a composition, is particularly
veniarkable for the concentration of the effect and
interest in the one action. The figure of St. Paul
is magnificent ; while the crouching, abject tbrm
of Elymas, groping his way, and blind even to bis
finger-ends, standa in the midst, and on him nil
eysB are bent,* Tbe manner in which tlie im-
is graduated from terror down to indif-
ftrent ouriosity, while one person explains the

'ent to anotliei by means of gesture, are among

li una o( ObttIcIi otjecl

tfae most spirited dramatic eSecta Rajihod i
pioduued.

'Thai Peter Kid, flllTir Uld gold hi

Under the portico of the Temple of JetUMlem
■tand tho two Apostles Peter and John ; tlie formr
a holding bj the hand a miserable, deformed crip
pie, who gazes ap in his &ce with jojful, eager
wondor ; another cripple ia seen on the left. Among
tiie people are seen conapiououe a woman with on
infiint in bet arms, and another leading two naked
boya,oneof whom is carrying two doTeaoa on aSbr-
ing. The wreathed and richly-adorned «>lnmiis are
imitated frnm those which have been prcserred fij(
ages in the church of St. Peter, a» relica of the
Temple of Jerusalem, With regard to the compo
eition, Raphael has been criticised for brealcing it
up into parts by the introduction of the pillara ;
yet, if properly considered, this very management
ia a proof of the exquisite taste of the painter, and
his attention to the object he had in view. Adher-
ing to the sense of the passage in Scripture, he
eould not make all the figures refer to one prin(»>
pal action, the healing of the cripple; be hw
therefore, iramed it in a manner betwoi:n the two
(olunins ; and by the groups introduced into tbt

^^F mPHAm. SAMZIO D'UKBINO. 253 I

other tnm diTisionn he has intimated that tho peiiple
were entering the temple " at tlio liuar of jirajerj
being the ninth hour." It is evident, morecver,
(hat had tho Bhafta bean perrectly etj^glit, accord-
ing to the eevereet law of good taste in architecture,
the effect would have been citremclj disagreeabla
to the aje ; bj their winding form thdj harmonizo
with the manifold forma of the moving figures
OTOUDd, and thej illustrate, hj their elaborate ele-
gance, the Scripture phruse, " the gate which is
called Beautiful." The misery, the distortion, the
DglinefiB of the cripple, are mude aa striking aa poa-
Bible, and aontmsUid with the noble head and form
of St. Peter, and the benign features of St. John.
Tho figure of the joung woman with her child ie
m model of feminine swoetness and grace ; it ia
emiDentl;, perfcctlj Eaphueleaque, etamped with
peculiar aentiroont and refinement. The bright
in sky seen between the intereticea of the col-
tunns bannunizes with the lightuees, cheerfutnees,
and happy oipression, of these figures. In th«
eompurtment where the miracle ia taking place,
there is tho sauie correapondence of effect with aen-
Kment ; the subdued light of the lampa burning in
the depth of tho roceaa accorda well with the rev-
U^ntial feeling excited by the aacred trunaaction.
Uanj parte of thia cartoon have unfortunately been
injured, and much of the harmony deetrojed, yet
It remains one of tho most wonderful reUca of ut

Hjiisp

Bpen

E&KI.T ITALUR FAISTXES.

4. Tas Sfiucciious Diudgbt or Ftsmcs.

Depart frnn ai«, tbrl un « alnftU lOkD, O Idrd''^ — LdebAi S.

On the \sh Christ U Mnted in a bark, in the kd
of apeakiog to St. Pc(«r, mho has TiUlen cm his kneai
before him ; behiod him is a joath, and a second
bark is on tbe right. Two mtm are boHied drawing
Dp the nets miraculously laden, while a third steers.
On the shore, in the foreground, etand three cranes ;
and in the distance are seen the people to whom
Christ had been preaching out of the ship or boat.
In tbia cartoon the compoeition is very beautiful i
and the execution, from ite mingled delicacy,
power, and precision, is supposed to be almost
entirely from Baphaers onn hand. The effect it
vonderfnlly bright. In the broad, dear daylight,
Knd i^inac the sky, the figures stand out in strong
relief. The clear lake ripples round the bark, and
the figure of the Saviour, in the pale blue veet and
white mantle, appears all light, and radiant with
beneficence. The awe, humility, and love, in th«
attitude and countenance of St. Peter, are wonder
fiilly eipresaivB. The masterly drawing in thq
figuree of the apostles in the second boat conveya
moat strongly the impression of the weight th^ an
attempting to raise. In the fish and the cranes,
■Jl painted with exquisite and minute Gdclity to
nature, we trace the hand of Giovanni da tjdina
These strange, black birds have here a grand effeob

W RAPHAEL EAMZtO D'drBINO. 239

" TbeTB is D. certain Bea-wildneee uboat them, and,
U theb food viae Esh, thej cootribute mightily to
eipress the aflair in hand ; thaj aro a fine part '.{
the scene, They serve also to prevent the beaTi-
nees which thut part would otherwise hiiTc had, \ij
breaking the parallel lines which would have been
nude bj the boats and base of the picture." '

■Dd lUatoricsl trutb. Thos, In
BKphiel hu nidE a bosl hn I
In It; sod Ihli Is H TbLble, th

te flgunri, fain pIcLure ir

Dr&Dt'ht or Flihn,
iire» he hai plond

, while cAhera h]xT«

de the boat larg*

It frequeolly happena In other Q

uninble judgmeDt oT Hi

heD he thLnks be Beea an abEnrdlt; In a gnut Author,
isdlnlcly fl>T Eranted tt la fluch- Boi^lj It It a EDOit
a JuH pr^udlce In tsToi of a man we have alwirl

Bt puaalblB that he might iu

KUtLI IXAllAS PJIXTXBS.

5. Pim. Ava Bjui?ubas *

"^txu Ibe ptial or Japlcer vblfb

•r.IlKTR

nH: )3,1*

On the left Paul and Bonuibaa are ebtnding b»
neath a pottico, and appear to togoU from tlie id-
laution of the townamea to oOer eocrifico to them ;
the first is rending his gument aod rebuking & man
vbo is bringing a nun to Im offered. On the right,
near the centre, ia seen a grouportbe people bring-
ing forward tnu oxen ; a man is Taiaing an axe to
■trike one of them down ; liia arm is held back bj
a jouth, ^-ho, having observed the abhorrent geetnrs
of Paul, judgea that the sacrifice will be offenaive h)
him. Id the foreground appears the cripple, do
longer so, who is clasping his hands with an eiprea-
■ion of gratitude ; his crulchea lie nseleas at his feet.
An old man, raising part of his dreea, gazes with a
look of astonishment on the restored limba. In the
background, the forum of Lystra, with several
temples. Towards the centre is seen a statue of
Mercury, in allusion to the words in the test :
"And thej called Paul, Mercurius, because hs
was the chief speaker."

As a composition this cartoon is on instancf of
the consummate skill with which Raphael has em-
trivcd [o bring together a variety of circumstatiCM
so combined as to make the story perfeutly intelli-
gible OS a passing scctte, linking it at the aanw

P KAPBAEL EANZIO D'UKBINO. 25?

tuna nith the pa^t and tba succeeding lime. Wa
have the roregona munient in tlia appearanoe of
the healed cripple, uni the wonder be excites ; in
the furious looks directed against the apoatlos l^
■ome of tbe Hpoctatore wo see forosbadowod tlia
persecution whicb immadiutely followed tliiti aat
of mistaken adoration. Everj part of tbe groups
iag, tbe figures, tba head, both in drawing aad
espieeeion, ate wonderful, and have on infuaian of
the antique and classical spirit moat proper to the
nibjact. Tbe sacriGcial group of the ox, with tht
figure holding its head and the man lilting thi
axe, was taken from a Roman boa-rslief whicb is
Raphael a time was in tbe Villa Msdici, and Hi*
idea varied and adajiUd to his purpose with in-
finite skill. Tbe boja piping at tbe altar are rittt
of beaut;, and most gracefully contrasted in char'
ftoter. The whole is full of movement and inUimi.

I 6. St. Paul PnxAcnisa at Athens.

■ Tb« Fuil Itood In Uh dUiI of Hui' hill. Bud aalrl, Tb mcci
eCAtfaeni,! [^€TqtiTB UuU In a.11 things ye arc Im ■apenUUan.
I^u 1 pBflBed bj hod beheld jour devotioDB, I fallud an ftltal
■UhthlilnudiJtlon.TDUiciiDkiuniDODd." — Ainsl7: 12,29.

Paul, standing on somo elevated steps, is preaoh-
ing to the Athenians in tbe Areopagus ; behind hliu
ftre three philosophers of the different sects, lb*
pTnio, the Epicurean, and the Platonic ; bejond.
k group of eophists disputing among each otbsr.
On the right are seen the half-hgurea of Dion^raiut

2fi8 XABI.I RAUAX nisTEBS.

tho Areopftgite and the wonjan Damaris, or whoa
it ia expnaaly said tliat thaj " believed iind data
onto him." On the same Bide, in the background,
ia seen tlia slataQ of Mare, in front of a circulai
temple. In point of pictorial coin position, (his car-
toon ia one of the finest in the eeriee. St. Paul,
elevated above his aaditors, grandlj dignified in
beoring, aa one divinely inspired, loflj in atatort
and position, " stands likea tower," Thia figuie
of St. Paul baa been imitated from the froaco of
Alaaocoio in the Cnnnine at Florence. There Paul
m represented as visiting St. Peter in prison. One
arm only ia raised, the forefinger pointing apward ;
be is speaking words of conaolation to him through
the gratod bora of hia dungeon, behind which ap-
pears the form of St. Peter. Raphael has taken
the idea of the figure, raised the two arms, and
given the whole an air of inspired energy wanting
in the original. The peraona who auironnd him
are not to be conaidered & more promisououa a»-
aemblage of individuals ; among them Biveral fig-
ures may each be said to personify a claaa, and the
different secta of Grecian philosophy may be easily
difltinguiahed. Ilere the Cynic, revolving deeply,
and fabrieating objections ; there the Stoio, leaning
on hia staff, giving a steady but scornful nttentioa.
Knd filed in obstinate incredulity ; there the dis-
riplea of Plato, not conceding a foil belief, but
pleased at least with the beauty of t^e doctrine,
■nd listening with gratified attention. Further on

1

I

OAPnUlL GAHZIO 9'uitBINO. '2b9

ia a promiscaoug group of diaputants, euphiatB, and
freetbinlccra, engaged in Tshemeiit dit«;u^iun, bat
&TjparaiitVy more bout on exhibiting their own ia-
gsnuitj than anxioua to elicit truth or acknowledga
conviction. At a consyerable disstance in tho back-
ground are seen two doctors of the Jewlah law.
The ?ariad groups, the fine thinking heads among
the Bnditora, the espreEsion of curiusitj, rejection,
doubt, conviction, faith, as revealed in tho different
countenances and attitudes, are all as fine as poa-
eible ; pardcularlj the man nho has wrapped hi*
robe around him, and appears burled in thought.
" This figure also ia borrowed Trom Moaaccio. Tha
domd eyes, which in llasoccio might be eosiljmi^
taken for sleeping, are not in the least ambigiioaa
in the cartoon ; his ejea, indeed, are closed, but
tbej are closed with euch vehemence that the agita.
Hon of a mind perplexed in the extreme is seen at
the first glance. But what is most catra ordinary,
and I think particularly to be admired, ia that the
same idea is continued through the whole figure,
even to tho drapery, which is so closely muflled
about him that even his hands ore not seen. By
this happy correspondence between the expression
of the countenance and the disposition of theparta,
the figure appears to think from head to foot." *

I

|60 KABLT ITAUAH FAHITKBa.

7. Tax Ciuiiax to St. Peibk.

"FBAdm/ ibeep."— .JonVli ltt<

Christ is standing imd painting with tbe rigbt
luuid to a flock of sheep ; bis leCt hand is extended
towards Peter, who, holding the kej, kneels at hit
feet. Tha other ten apostlea atand behind him,
listening with varions gneturee and eiprcMtOD to
the words of the Saviour, In tha background k
landscape, and on the rigbt the Lakeof Gennesareth
and a fisher's bark. In the tapeatr; the white robe
of our Saviour ie strewed with golden atars, which
bM a beautiful eSeot, and doubtless existed in the
Bftrtoon, though no trace of this is now visible.

As the transaction here rsprasented took placo
between Christ and St. Peter only, there was little
room for dramatic eSect. Richardson proisee tho
introduction of the sheep, sa the onlf means of
making the incident intelligible; bat I agree with
Dr. Waagen that herein lUkphaal has perhaps, in
avoidiug one error, fallen into another, and, not
■ibla t« give us the real meaning of the words, has
turned into a palpable object what was merely a
flgurativu expression, and thus produced an amU-
piitj of another and of a more unpleasant kind.

Th'> figure of Christ is wonderfully noble in con-
•eptioQ and treatment ; the heads of the apostle*
Boelj diversified ; in some we see only affectionate
acquieacBnca, duteous sobmlBeion ; in others woi>
Icr, displeasure, and jealous discontent. The

I

ZIO S'UHDINO. 261

fignrVa of the apostlaa are in the cartoon happilj
relieved from each other hy variety of local tint,
which cannot be given in a print, and hence ths
lieavy effect of the composition when Btudied through
the engraving only.

Thwe are the euhjecU of the fiimouB Cartoona of
Raphael. To describe the oQcct of the light and
iketahj treatment, eo easj, and yet bo large and
grand in Btjle, we shall borrow the words of an elo-
quent writer.

" Compared with the«e," saja Hazlitt, as finely
as truly, " all other pictures look like oil and ton
niah ; we are stopped and attracted by the color-
ing, the pencilling, the finishing, the iostrnmeDt'
alities of art ; but here the painter seems to have
flung hia mind upon the canvaa. His thoughta,
liis great ideas alone, prevail ; there is nothing
between us and the subject ; we look through a
frame and see Scripture histories, and are made
actual Bpectatora in miraculous events. Not to
■peak it profanely, they are a sort of a rerelatioD
of the subjects of which they treat ; there ia an
ease and freedom of manner about them which
brings prettimatursl chara'itera and aituationa hems
to us with the familiarityof every-dayoccurrenceai
md while the figures fill, raise, and satisfy the
Piind, they seem to have coat the painter nothing.
EJverywhere elsa we aeo the means ; hero w6 arriTS
■t the end apparently without any means. Ther«

262 KtKLT ITAUAX PJHriKBa,

If ft qurit &I work ID tbe ditine CKation berore na -
mmn iincoiucioi«oraiijHtepa tnkeD, of anyprog
na uttde ; wa sre amre oalj of comprebenatvs
naults — of whole raasMe of figures : th« eeasaat
puwer eupenedee the ftppearance of effort. It ia aa
if 119 had oura^TSB Been these persons and tliiogi
Kt sooie former itate of our being, and tbat the
drawing certain lines upon coftrse paper bjr Bome
nnknowu epell brought back the entire and living
Un^ee, and muds Lham pax before ub, palpable to
thought, feeUog, E^ight. Perba[« not all thia is
owing to genius ; something of this effect may be
wcribed to the dmplicitj of tbe vehicle cmplojed
in embodjing the Btorj, and something to the do>
ettjing and dilapidated etala of the pictures them-
Mlves. Thej are the more majestiu for being in
rains. We are etn)t>k chiefly with the truth of
propottiun,ftQd the ruige of concaptbn — all made
tpiritual. Tbe coiTu«tible has put on incorrup-
tioD ; and, amidst the Tockof oolorand tbemoiild-
■ring of material bei ity, nothiDg is left but a
■uiverse of thonght, r-4 the broad imminent shad-
OWB of 'calm contemplation and majastio pains.' "

There exist two sets of copies of the ftame sixs
H tbe originals : one executed by Sir James Thorif
hill, and praeonted by the Duke of Bedford to tbe
Boyal Academy ; and another set presented by
Ihe Duke of Marlborough to the University of
Oxford.

Il is a mitter of regret, but hardly of surpriM

I
I

OAPHiKL SANZIO D'DRBLNO. 'ZbS

that the curtoons hure never yet been adequatelj
engraved. The first complete eexiw wbicb appeared
vas Tij Simon Gribolin, a French engraver, wbo
came over in 1630, and wae published in the reign
of Queen Anne. Tbe prlata are em:ill, neat memo-
randa of the compoaitiana, notliing mora.

The second set was execute bj Sir Kicholna
Dorigny, who undoctook tlio work under the
patronage of the government, and presented to the
king, George L, id 1719, two Beta of the fiujehed
eiigravingit ; on which occasion the king boatowed
on him a purae of one hundred guiuoaa, and, at
the request of the Duka of Devonabire, knighted
him. Tliosa engravings are large, and tulerablj
but coareelj executed, ond are profcrrted by con-
noisseurs ; but on the whole they are poor as worka
of art.

There are two amall sets in niexzotinto, and
another amall aot by Filtler.

The set of large engravings by Thomas Ilolloway
noa begun by him in ISOO, and woe not quite com-
pleted at his doatb, in 18:26. These eogravinga
have been praiaed fur the " finished and elaborate
B^le in which they have been eieouted," and they
deserve this praise ; hut, as transcripts of the coi-.
toona, they are altogether fiitae in point of al^le,
Ehey are too metallic, too mechanical, too labored;
ft set of masterly etchings would better convey an
trnpreaaiun of the alight, free execution, Che spiritual
taae, of tbe originala. These engravings give oa<

r

I

264 EABLY TtAllA.HI PAMTBBS.

tbe Um of being done tmn highlj-finiahcd, deeply
colored oll-pictuTQH.

Sinoe 1837 a large sot bae bee:i commeaced b;
Julm Burnett, in a mixed, ratlior coB.rse Btjle, but
effective and spirited ; they are sold &t a cbeup rate.

Losdj, a set has baao commenced bj Mr. L.
Griiner, whose eiquisiU taste and claHsicul etjle of
engmring, as well as his profound ucquaintanoe
witli tha works luid genius of Raphael, render him
particularly St fur the task.

Raphael finished thme cartoons in 1516. They
are all from fuurteen to eighteen feet in length,
and about twelve foot high ; the figures above life-
■be, drawn with chalk npoD etroog paper, and
oolorad in distemper. He received for bis designs
four hundred and tbirty-fbur gold ducats (about ai
hundred and fiflj pounds) , mhioh were paid to him,
three hundred oa tbe 15tb of June, 1915, and one
hundred and tbirtj-four In December, ISIG. The
rich tapeatries worked from those cartoons, in wool,
nlk, and gold, were completed at Arras, and iteot
to Rome, in 1519. For tiiese the pope paid to the
manufacturer at Arras fiflj thousand gold duoata ;
tfaer were exhibited for the lirst time on St. Ste-
phen's Day, December 26, 1519. Raphael had the
■adslaction, before he died, of seeing them huug irt
tb^r places, and of witnessing the wonder and
applause they excited through the whole city.
Their subsequent fate was very curious and erenb-
(bl. In the sack of Rome, in 152Tf tbey irere uar

1

Ifed awaj hj tbe Frsnch noldierj ; but were n-
ttarml, in 1553, during tlie reij;ii of Pupe Juliiii
m., bj the Due de MDotmorenci, all but tlia piecfl
trhioh reptaeented thu Coroaatiun of the Virgin,
whicli 18 supposed to haye been burned for the salca
of the gold tbiead. Again, in 1T93, thej miide put
of tbe Fcenoli Bpoliations, and were aotuall; sold
to a Jaw at Legborn, wlio burnt one of tbem tot
tbe purpose of extracting tlie precioue metal con-
tained iu the threads. As it was found, howerer,
to furnidli Terj little, the proprietor judged it better
to allow tbe others to retain their original shape,
and tbej were soon afterwards repurcbasod from
him b; the agents of Pius VII., and re'insCatad in
the galleries of the Vatican. Several sets of tapes-
tries were worked from tbe cartoons : one was sent
08 a present to llenr; Till., aod after the death
of Charles 1. sold into Spain; another of the same
Mt was exhibited in London about a year ago, and
bas since been sold to the King of Pruseia.

While all Rome was indulging in eoBtasies ovot
the rich and dearly-paid tapestries, wbieh were not
hen, and are still less noui, worth one of the car-
toons, these precious productions of the artist's own
mind were lying in the warehouse of the weQTor at
Arras, neglected and forgotten. Sotno were torn
into (higments, and parts of them exist in rariom
eoUeetions. Seven still rtmained in some garret or
cellar, when Rubens, just a century afterwards,
ueiiiioned their existence to Cbarlce I., and advised

ichaae them far the u

1 of a lapesbj

monufitctorjr which Eiog Jaxaets I. hod eetablisbed
at Mijrtlake. Xlie purchoBe w.is made. TLej hod
been cut into long elijM abuut twi) feet nide, fiw
tlie conTeoienoa of the workmeD, and in thia etate
Ihej arrired in England.* On Cbarlea' death,
Cromwell bought thein, at the eala of the rojal
effecU, for three hundred pounds. We hod rcrj
nearly lost them aguin in the reign of Charles 11. ;
fur Louis XIT. having intimated, through his am-
baSBadar Barillon, a wish to poaaosa thoia at anj
price, thu needjr, oarelees Charles wau on the point
of yielding them, and would have dona ao but lot
the repreeentatbns of the Lord Treiiaarer Danby ,
to whom, in fout, we owe it tliat they were not
ceded to France. They remained, however, neg-
lected in one of the lumber-rooma at Whitehall
till the reign of William III,, and narrowly escaped
being destroyed by Bre when WhitehaU was burned,
in 1608. It must have been shortly after that King
William ordered them to be repaired, the Irag-
monta posted together, and stretched upon linen;

kangingt
polatujcuf

at chich Chules I

r. rnncle Clt;iiii, tt KorUtko, It malii
n that CniaiiieU hail aome iaUntiiij al
ry of tapestrj tA BiDrllHkfl u a nB^oiml

I

BAPOAEL SANZIO D'UEBINO. 267

•nd being juat at that tims occupied with the
ftltecationa and improvements at Iliuapton Court,
Sit Cbriatopher Wren had his commands to plan
and erect a room oiproaalj to receive them, — th«
room in which they now hang.

In the YaticBn there is a. second set of tsn tapas-
triea, for which Raphael gave the original designs ;
but he did not execute the cartoons, aod tiie style
of drawing in those fragments which remain ia not
his. A very Gne fragment of one of these cartoons,
The Massacre of the Innocents, is in our National
Gallery. It is very different in the style of eiecu*
tion from the cartoons at Hampton Court, and has
pointed over in oil, when or by whom is not
n, but certaiolj before 1730. The subjeoto
of the second sot were all from the life of Christ,
and were as follows :

1. The Slaughter of the Innocents.

2. The Adoration of the ShepherdB.

3. The Adoration of the Magi.

4. The Presentation in the Temple.

5. The Eesurrection.

6. The Noli me Tangere.

7. The Deecent into Purgatory.

8. Christ and the Disciples at Emmaua.
0, The Ascension.

10. The Descent of the Holy Ghost
The tap«etrioa of tliese subjects still bang in Uw
fatican, and all have been engraved.
The fame of Raphael had by this time spread to

M8

URLI ITII

kS rAINTKRB.

othw oountriM. Uorace Walpola, fn the " Ano^
dotes of Painting,'" onureB ua thnt Henry Till ,
«rbo on coming to the throne was desirouB of etnn-
hting Franci* t. &a a patron of art, invil«d Baphod
to liis court ; but ha does not my on what authority
h« ■tstea this as a fact. At all erants, the joung
king was obliged to oontant hlmsplf vitli tlis littlt
St. George Mat to him by the Duke of Urbino, M
« ppeoimen of Raphod'i talent ; &nd with Holbein,
whom ha eoon anei enga:ged in hU service, ns hi*
court painter, — porbiipa the best Bubfititate fol
Raphael in point of original genius then to be ob-
tained by oSers of gold or patronage. Francia t.
was alio most aniloue to attract Raphael to liia
Murl ; and not succeeding, hs desired to have ft
picture by hii hand, loaring him the choice of eub-
jeot. Ah Raphael had choaen St. Qeorgs as the
fittest Hubjeot for the King of England, he now,
with equal propriety and taste, choae St. Uicboel,
the patron saint of the most celebrated military
arder in France, as likely to be the most acceptable
nibjeut for the French king, and represented tha
archangel as victorious over the Spirit of Evil. Tba
figures are as large as litb. St. Michael, beaming
with angelio beanty and power, stands with one
foot on the Evil One, and raises bis lance to thrust
him down to the deep. Satan ia so represented
that very little of his hideous and prostrate form ii
visible, the grand victorious spirit filling the whole
HUlTftS and the eye of the spectator. The king at-

r RiSUASL 8ANZI0 D ITOBINO. 269

freeacd hia eatiafactlon in a, right io;a! and grace-
ful FosbioD, and rewarded the artiat muniSceDtlj,
Raphael, conBidering himaslf oTSTpaid, and not to
be outdone in generoBitj, sent to the king liii
&JU0U8 II0I7 Fauil; (called The lurge Hul; Famil;,
beoauHo the figures are life-size), in which the infant
CbriBt is Been in act to spring from the cradle into
hia niotbar's arma, while angels acatter floweca from
above. Engravinga and copiea nithout numbw
eiist of this famoua piotura. Theoriginal is in th«
gallery of the Louvre. Kaphoel aent alao his St,
Uorgarot OTflrouming the Dragon, a compliment
apparently to the king's favorite slater, Margaret,
Qaeen of Navarre : this al«o ia in the Louvre.
When they were placed before Francisl., he ordered
lUB treaaurer to count out twentj-four thouaanj
livres (about three thouaaad pounda, according to
the present value of money), and aent it to tha
jiaiuter with the atrongeat eipresaione of hia appro*
bation. At a later period he purchaaed the beauti.
{ill portrait of Joanna of Arragon, vice-queen of
Naplea, which ia also in the Louvre.

About the same period (that is, between 1517
and 1520) Raphael painted for the convent of Sti
Bixtus, at Pia^enza, one of the grandest and moct
celebrated of all hia worka, called, from ita original
deatinatiun, the Madonna di San Siato. It repr»
jNola the Virgin standing in a mnjeetio attitudu;
the infant Saviour enthroned in her arms ; and
wound hec head a glory <tf iuaumcrable cheiuba

270 KISLT ITILIAK rArNTEHS.

melting into light. Eneeling beforq h«r wc roe os
one Bide St. SiituB, on the other St Barbara, and
beneath ber feet tiro heavenl/ chemba guis up in
adoratioo. In eiecntion, u in design, this is proh-
kbl; the most perfect picture in the world. It is
painted tbronghoDt bj Raplmel's own band ; &nd
•a no sketch or stud; of taij psit of it was met
Itnown to exist, and oa the siecntion must hate
been, from the thinness and delicacy of the colors,
wonderfully rapid, it ia supposed that he painted it
at once on the canvas — a ertalimi rather than a
pieture. In tlio beginning of the last cectary the
Slector of Sanony, Augastus HI., purchased this
picture from the monka of the convent for the SDin
of sixty thousand florina (about six thonsand
pounds), and it now furms the chief boaat and
oroanient of the Dresden Gallery. The finest m-
graving is that of Frederic MUller, good impreeeioiiB
of which are worth twenty or thirty guineas ; but
tbere ia alro a »ery beautiful nnd fiiithful lithograph
by Uofst'itagel, nbich may be puchosod for half as
many shillinga.

For his patron Agoatino Chigi, Itapliael painted
in freaco the history of Cupid and Psyche. The
palace which belonged to the Cbigi family is now
the Villa Faroesina, on the walls of which these
&mous frcscoca may still be seen in very gixid pre>
lervation. In Griiner's admirable work on the
' Decoration of the Pulaces and Churches in Italy "
there is a perspective view of the corridor of Um

RAPHAEL EANZIO D'urSINO.

271

tantBBiaa

In ths aa

Galatea. Id thia fresco he

Bhdwing how this beantiful KrisB of

a is arranged on the >:eiling and walls

palace he painted the Triumph of

(rreatlj assisted

bj Giulio HoinaDO.

During tho last ten years of his life the fame of
Baphoel woe reiy much extended bj means of ths
engiHTer Marc Antonio Raimondi, who, after studj-
ing dwign in the school of Fruncia at Bologna,
betook htmaelf to Borne, and gained the admira-
/ Kon and good-will of Raphael by the perfect en-
I graTings he made from some of his beautiful works.
^ l^c Antonio lived for some time in Raphael's own
house, and engraved for him and under his direo*
Uon most of those precious and exquisite composi-
tions, the most wonderful creations of tho mind of
Raphael, of which there exist no finished picturea.
and in some cases no drawings nor metaoranda.
Among these may be mentioned a few wliich are to
be found in the Print-room of the British Museum :
1. The Lucratia, n single figure, wonderfijllj beau-
tiful. 2. The Massacre of the Innocents. 3. Ets
prMflnting to Adam the forbidden fruit, 4. The
last Supper. G. The Mater Dolorosa, the Tirgin
lamenting over the dead body of our Siivii)ur, 9.
Another of the same subject, containing several fig-
ures. These are only a few of the moat precious,
tor within the present limits it is impoBsihle to go
mto detail. Some time after the death of Raphael,
ybuo Autonio was very descrredly banished fnin

272

I PAIHTXU,

Borne b; Clemeat YII. Tempted bj gold, be had
lent bis uorivolted skill lo ahameful purposes. Ai>
cording to Malvasia, La yuu aftenrardB uaiLSsituital
«t BuiogDft.

Tlie last gr«at picture which Rapliftel uadertooki
nud irhiQh at tba time of bis death nua not quita
completed, wua the Traiia£gunitioii of our Sariuui
on Mount Tabor. Tbi* picture if divided into two
parts. The lower part conhuns » orowd of figures,
ftod is full of passioD, euergj, autiun. In the
centre is the demoniac bo;, iMinvuIeed and atrug-
gling in the aixoa of bis fi^thei. Two women,
lEDMiing, implore amiatunce ; othera are seen cr^
ing aloud and BtretchiDg out thuir aria« for aid.
In the dlsciplee of Jesos we sae exhibited, in vurl-
ouB ahodee of eTpromion, astoiiialiiueDt, horror,
aympaUi; , profound thought. One among tbem,
with a benign and youthful ooutitenuoce, luolu
oompaadonatelj on the father, plainly inttmnting
thai be can give no help. The upper part of
the picture ropresenU Mount Tabor. The thre*
apOBttee lie prostrate, dazzled, on the earth ; aboT4
them, transfigured in glory, floats the divine form
of tho Saviour, with Moaea and Eliaa on either
side. "The two-fulil action contained ib thii
piotore, to which shallow critict have taken eX'
oeption, is explained historically and satisrooto-
rily merely by the fact that the incident of ths
1 boy occurred in the absence of Christ ;
it explains itself in a still higher sense, when

BAIRAEL SAKZIO D'URBIKO.

278

we consider the deeper univerBol meaning of th«
piature. Fur tliia purpose it ia not even noccs-
BBij to conBuU the hoots of the Now Teatament
ibr the explanation of the particular inoidonta :
the lower portion ropreeents the calamities and
niserieB of human life, the rule of domoniao
power, the weakness even of the faithful whoa
unasaieted, and directs them to look on high for
aid and strength in adverBitj. Above, in the
brightneea of dirina hlisB, undisturbed bj the
Bufferings of the lower world, we behold the
BourcA of our consolation and of oui redemption
irom eril."

At thJH time the loTers of painting at Rome
were diviJed in opinion an to the relative merits
of Michael Angelo and Raphael, and formed two
great portiea, that of Raphael being bj far the
moat numerous.

Michael Angelo, with characteristic haughtinsM
diadained anj open rivalry with Raphael, and pul
forward the Venetian, Scbaatian del Fiombo, a^ no
nnworthy competitor of the great Roman painter
Raphael bowed before Michael Angelo, and, with
the modest; and candor which belonged to hit
oharac(«r, woe heard to thank heaven that he hod
been bom in the same age and enabled to prolit hj
the grand creations of that sublime genius. But
tie was bj no means inclined to yield any Buprem-
psj to Seboatinn ; he knnw his own strength too
well. To decide the .vmtroversy, the Cardinal
18

I
I

S74 KA]U.r tULTAN PAIKTKKS.

Giuiio dv' Medici, afletwarde Pope Clament TD ,
oommiwioDed Raphael to paint this picture of tha
TnnsSguratioD, and at tbe same time oommatided
bata Sebaatian del Pioanbo the Raising of IjubtiUi
«bicb is now in our National Gollerj <No. 1).
Botb picturw were intended bj ths cardinal for
hia catbedroi at Norbanna, be baT'ng latelj been
onated Arclibifihop of Narbanno, hj FnuieiB I.
Hicliasl Angela, woU aware that Sebastian was %
Ikr bettor colorist than designer, fumiahed him
with Uie uartooQ for his picture, and, it is aaii,
drew some of tlie figuree (that of Lazarua, for
exajnple) with hia own hand on the panel ; but
he woB eu fiir from doing this secretly, that Bo-
pbnel heard of it, and exclaimed, jojfuU;, "Mi-
ohael Angelo boa grouioualj favored ne, in that
ha has deemed me worthy to compete with him-
self, and not with Sebastian! " But he did not
live to eujoj the triumph of hia aoknowledgod
Buperioritj, dying before he lind finished hia pio-
tore, which was afterwards completed \>y the hand
of Giuiio Romano.

During the last yeara of hia life, and while en-
gaged in painting the Tranrliguration, Raphael's
actice mind was employed on many other tUingB.
Ue hod been appointed by the pope to auperiu-
tend the building of St. Peter's, and be prepared
the architectural plans for that vast undertaking.
Be was most active and zealous in carrying out the
|iope'a project for disinterring and p

P BAPUJIEL 3ANZI0 D'UBBIHO. 275

IwnaiuB of art which lay buried beneath the mini
of anciant Ituma. A letter is yet extant addi'eaaed
bj Ruphuel to Pupc Leo X., in wlii»h be lajs dova
a ByBtouiiitic, weU-coDBidered plaa for excavating
by degrees tbe wbule of the ancient city ; and »
writer of llmt time hiw left a. Latin epigmm to
tliia purpoae — that Raphael had eoujiht and found
in BooiB "another Rome." — "To aeeb it," adds
the poet, " was worthy of a great man ; to reveal
it, worthy of a god." Ila alao mode several draw-
inga and modeU for soiilptuie, particularly for k
Statue of Jonah, now in tbe church of Santa
Maria del Popolo. Nor was this all. With a.
princely magnificence, he hod sent artists at hil
own cost to various ports of Italy and into Greece,
to wake drawings irom those remains of antiquity
which his numerouB and important avocatiuna
prevented him fi'oin visiting himself. He was in
dose intima<:y and correspondence vrith moat of
the celebrated men of his time ; interested hint'
■elf in all that was going forward ; mingled in
■ociety, lived in splendor, and was always ready
to assist generously his own family, and the pupili
who hod gathered round him. The Cardinal Bib*
bieoa offered bim bis niece in marriage, with ft
dowry of three thousand giild crowns ; but tha
Bwly death of Maria di Bihhiena prevented thia
union, for which it appears that Raphael himself
had no great inclination. In possession of all
that ambition could desire, for him the cup of lift

276

UBLV rrtUAH fAINTEBa.

wu Btill running oter with lore, hcpe, powv,
glory — wlian, in the very iirimo of manhimJ, nod
la the midfct of viut undcrtakingB, he vaa setxed
with a viuleot fever, — caught, it is said, in Euper-
intending lomc eubleiTaiiean excavntions, — uid ex
pired after an illoen of fourteen doya. His denth
took pkcs on Good Friday (faia hirth-day), April
G, 15'20, having <ximple(«d hia thirly-flerenth year.
Groat was the grief of all citunee ; unspcalcahls
that of his friends aod acholars. The pope had
MDt erery day to inquire after his health, adding
the most kind and cheering messagee ; and when
told that the beloved and admired painter was no
more, ho broke out into lanentationB on his own
and the world's loss. The body was laid on a bed
of Btate, and above it was sospended the laat weak
of that divine hand, the glorioue TransSgumtion.
From his otvn house near St. Peter'a a multitudo
of all ranks followed the bier in sad procewion ;
and his remains were laid in the churuh of ths
Pantheon, near those of his betrothed bride. Slaria
di Bibblena, in a epot chosen by himself during
his li retime.

Several years ago (tn the year 1833) there aroM
among ilie antiquarians of Borne a keen dispute
Boncerninga human skull, which, on no evidence
whatever, except a long-received tradition, had
been proservod and eihibitad in the Academy of
St. Luke, ab the akuU of Raphael Some even
expressed a doubt as to the exact place if hi*

iurBAm< sANzio d'uubino 273

W lipulubre, though upon this puint the contcmpo-
I my tostuaoDj Hcemed to leave no room fui* uucer-
f taint; Til aeccnikin the lUct, permission wag
obtained from the papal government, and from
tho dinanB of the cbui\:h of the Rotunda (thiit is,
of the Pantheon), to make sume rssenrchee ; and
on the fourteenth of September, in the sama year,
afler five days spent in reinoving the pavement in
■evcral places, tlie remains of Itiiphael were din-
covered in a vault behind the high altar, and imp-
tified sa hia hj indiaputablQ proofs. After being
examined, and a cast made from the skull and
from the right hand, the skeleton was exhibited
publidy in a glass case, and multitudes thronged
to the chureh to look upon it. On the ISth of
October, 1833, a Hecond funeral ceremony took
place. The remains were deposited in a pine-wood
eoffin, then in a marble earcophagus, presented by
the pope (Gregory XVI,), and reverently consigned
to their Former resting-place, in presence of mora
than three thousand spectators, including almost
all the urtistB, the ofGcers of government, and ath«c
iwrsons of the highest ruck in Rome.

I Besides tiia grand compositions from the Old and

' New Testament, and his frescoes and araheeques in

the Vatican, Raphael has left about one hundred

•nd twenty picturos of the Virgin and Child, all

TOriouB — only resembling each other in the peou*

278

SAKLT ITALIAN PAINTESS,

tior type of ebante and maternal loTellncM wliieh
be biu givBD to [he Virgin, and the inCuitmi
beaut; <if the Child. The moat oelebrated ot bJM
UadomiBB, in the ordet in which Ih^ wsM
})di)ted, ua : 1. The Madonna di Foligno. in
the Vatican. 2. The lladonna of the Fish, tt
Madrid. 2. The Madonna del Cardellino, at Fbi-
enca. 4. The Madonna di San Siato, at Dresden.
6. The Madonna called tlie Pearl, at Madrid,
Eight of his Madonna pictures ate in England,
in private galleries.

There are but Tew pictnres taken from m;ftlial-
vgj and profane hiBtorj, the Cupid and PE^cbe and
the Galatea being the moat important ; but a vast
number of drawings and compositions, some of
them of conauminate beauty.

He painted about eighty portraits, of whiuh the
most fiunous ore Julius II. ; Lea X. (the original!
of both theeo ore at Florence) ; Cardinal Bibbienft;
Cardinal Bauibo ; and Count Castiglione (the last
at Paris) ; the Youth with his Violin, at Rome;
Bindo Altoviti, supposed for a long time to be his
own portrait, now at Munich ; the beautiful Joan-
na of Arragon, in the Louvre, The portrait collod
tlie Fornarina bad long been euppoeed to represent
ft joung girl to whom Rapbael had attached him-
self soon after his arrival in Borne ; bat Ibis appears
TSTj doabtful ; Passavant aupposea it to represent
Beatrice Pio, a celebrated improvisatrice of that
time. Besides these, wo have serenteen architeo

RAPHAEL 8ANZI0 D'UBBINO. 279

laral designs for buildings, public and private and
several designs for sculpture, ornaments, &c. But
it is not any single production of his hand, how-
ever rarely beautiful, nor his superiority in any
particular department of art ; it is the number
and the variety of his creations, the union of inex-
haustible fertQity of imagination with excellence
of every kind, — faculties never combined in the
same degree in any artist before or since, — which
have placed Raphael at the head of his profession,
and have rendered him the wonder and delight of
all ages.

We shall now proceed to give an account of i
of Baphael's most fiimous scholars.

p

IHK SCHOLAKS OF EAPEAEL.

Wb bave olreadj had occaaion to obsam tiM
pOLt Dumber of scholsjB, Bome of them oI<ieF tban
^UIlleelf, who Iiad asMmbled round Kapliael, and
the unusual hormony in which they lived together,
Taaari relates lliat, whan ha went bi court, a trftin
of fifty painters attended on him from hij own
house to the Vatican. Thej came from every part
of Italy : from Florence, Milan, Venice, Bulogna,
Forara, Naples, and even &om beyond the Alpa, to
Study under the groat Eoman master. Many of
tbem ossiBtad, with more or less akill, in the exocu-
tioa of his great worha in freeco ; some imitated
him in one thing, eomo in another ; but the tin-
riTalled charm of Raphael's productions lies in tba
imprega of the mind which produced them : this be
oould not impart to others. Those who followed
■ervilely a particular manner of conception and
drawing, which tliey called " Raphael's style," de-
generated into insipidity and littlenesB. Thoaewhii
hod original power deviated into exaggerations and
perveraitiea. Not one among them approuohed
him. Some caught a faint reflection of his grace
nme of iiis power : but they turned it to other pur

BCR0LAB9 OF UArUAUL.

noble aimB elerated them, but when he died thej
fell away, one after another. The laTiali and mag-
oificflDt Pope Leo X. was succeeded in 1521 by
AdriuaVT-ja man conscientioua even to severity,
sparing even to aaceticlsin, and without any sym-
pathies either for art or artists. During hia short
pontiGeate of ttru years all tlie works in the Vatican
and St. Peter'a were suspended, the poor paintera
were starving, and the dreadful pestilence whioh
r^ed in 1523 drove many from the city. Under
Clement VII., one of the Medici, and nephew of
Lao X., the arts for a time revived ; but the Back
of Rome by the barbarous soldiery of Bourbon in
I52T completed the dispersion of the artists who
had flocked to the capital ; each returning to liia
native country or city, became also a teacher; and
thus what was called " Raphael 'b School," or the
'* Soman School," was spread from onoend of Italy
to the other.

Raphael bad left by his will bis two favorite
tcholars, Gian Francesco Penni and Giulio Romano
u executors, and to them he bequeathed the taA.
of completing his unGnished works.

QiiN Francesco Pen-ni, called II Fattore, wa»
liia beloved and confidential pupil, and had nwistad
him much, particularly in preparing hia cartuonaj
but everything he executed from bis own mind and
tfUr Raphael's death has, with mach tendcTn«M

282 BASLT IIALIAH P1INTEB8.

•nd Raffaelesgue grace, a sort of feebleness more of
mind than hand. His pictures are very rare. H«
died in 1528.

His brother Ujca Pknni was in England fiir
■ame years in the service of Henry YHl., and em-
ployed by Wolsey in decorating his palace at
Elampton Court ; some remains of bis performances
there were still to be seen in the middle of the last
century ; but Horace Walpole's notion that Luca
Ponni executed those three singular pictures, the
Field of the Qoth of Gold, the Battle of the Spurs,
and the Embarkation of Henry Vlil., appears to be
quite unfounded.

Giulio Pippi, sumamed, firom the place of hii
birth, n Romano, and generally styled Giulio
Romano, was also much beloved by Raphael, and
of all his scholars the most distinguished for origi-
nal power. While under the influence of Raphael's
mind, he imitated his manner and copied his pic*
tures BO successfully, that it is sometimes difficult
for the best judges to distinguiBh the difference of
hand. The Julius H. in our National Gallery is
an instance. After Raphael's death, he abandoned
himself to his own luxuriant genius. He lost the
simplicity, the grace, the chaste and elevated feel-
ing, which had characterized his master. He be-
came strongly imbued with the then reigning taste
for classical and mythological subjects, which hs
treated not exactly in a classical spirit, but with
great boldness and fire, both in conception and ez»

8CII0UB3 Of BAFOAZL, 283

gution. Ha did not excel in religious euhJeuTiS. If
ha had to paint the Virgin, begavB lier the air and
{una of a cummaD ding Juno ; if a Saviour, he wai
lilce u RumaD omperar ; the upoatlos in hij picturea
are like heathen pbitosophera : but when he h^d to
deal with goda and Titaos, he was in kia element.

For four yeiLrs afW the death of RaphtLcl he wu
chieSj occupied in completing hie master's an-
finisbed works ; at the end of that time be trent to
Mantua and entered tbe service of the Duke Gon-
■aga, as painter and architect. He designed for
him a splendid palace called the Folazxo del Te,
which he decorated with frescoes in a. grand but
ooares style. In one Boioon he represented Jupiter
Tanquisbing the giants ; in another, tbe history of
pHjche. Everywhere wa see groat lusnriance of
fancy, wonderful power of drawing, and a bold,
large style of treatment; but great coarseness of
imagination, red, heavy coloring, and a pagan
rather than a cleasical taste.

In character, Giulio Romano was a man of geo-
oro lis mind ; princely in his style of living; an ao-
eompiished courtier, yet commanding respect by a
loftf eense of his own dignity as an artist. He
amassed great riches in the eerrice of tbe Duke
GoDzagn, and spent his life at Mantua. His most
tmportant worka are to be found in tbe palaces and
ehurches of that city.

When Charles I, purchased the entire collection
Bf the Dukeeof Mantua, in 1629, there were among

I

284 SIBLY RtLUN PAINTERS.

tbem man; piotuTW bj Giulb Rtimano. One of
thwo wa^ tbs admirable Copy of Rapbael's fiewo
of tLa battle betweeo ConfUnitineand MuiBDlius.
now In the guard-room at Hampton Court. In tho
nme gnllerj ore seren others, all mythological. Hud
oharacteriatio oertainlj, but by no menus TaTonibla
■pecimeDs of hia ganiua ; thej Lave bwidw been
ooarselj pointed over by some restorer, eo as to
retain no trace of the original narkmaaehip. The
most iinportant picture whicb came into the po»-
Mnion of King Cborles was a Nativity, a large
altar-piece, which, afW the king's death, was sold
into France. It is now in the Ixmvre (1075). A
verj jirelty little picture is the Venus persuading
Tulcan to fo:^ the arrows o[ Cupid ; also in the
Louvre (107T). Engravings ufler Giulio Romano
ore very commonly met with.

Giulio Romano was invited by FWincis I. to
nndertake the dworation of bis palace at Fontaina-
bleau ; but, not bDJogabte to leave Mantua, hesent
his pupil Primuticdo, who covered the walla with
frescoGs and arabesques, much in the manner of
those in the Palar.zo del Te ; that is to say, with
gods and guddeflBes, Jauns, satyrs, nymphs, Cupids,
Cyclops, Titans, in a style as remote &om that of
Baphacl as can well be imagined, and yet not defr
titate of a certain grandeur.

PRIJIATICCIO, NlCOLb OEL AbATE, RoBSO, BOd

othors who worked with them, ara designated ii

BCaOLARS OS aAPHAEL.

I the liiHtory of art as the " FonUineblaau School,"
of wfaluh Primaticcio is considered the cbiof.*
GiOTiNNi Di UntNE, who oicelled in piinting
ftnimalB, flowers, and still life, was Raphael's chief
■BBistont in the fumouB arabesqueB of the Taticuu.
PsRiMo DEL Vaga, another of Raphael's Bcholars,
carried his stylo to Genoa, whore he was oliieflj em
ployed 1 and Andrea di Salerno, a far mora
oharioing painter, who was at Romo but a short
time, has left many pictures at Naples, nearer to
Raphael in point of feeling than those of other
Mholors who had studied under his eye for years.
Andrea seems also to have boon altietl to his muster
in mind and character, for Raphael parted fcom
Um with deep regret.

FoLnioiio Oaldaha, called from the place of his
birth Polidoro da Caravaggio, was a poor boy who
bad been employed by the fresco painters in the
Tftticun to carry tlie wet mortar, and afterwards to
grind tbeir colors. He learned to admire, then to
emulate what he saw, and Raphael encouraged and
aided him bj his inatructions. Tha bent of Poli-
dOTo's genius, as it developed itself, was a curiouB
and interesting compound of bis two vocations. Ho
had been a mason, or what we should call a brick-
Uyer's boy, for the first twenty years of his life.
From building houses he took to decorating them,

• The fTEMMS t

]L Hbox, & French pakater oT en

286 BASLT ITALIAN PAI1ITEB8.

ftnd from an early fiuniliaritj with the remains of
antiquity lying around him, the mind of the un-
educated mechanic became unoonsciouely imbued
with the yery spirit of antiquity ; not one of
Raphael's scholars was so distinguished for a dae*
sical purity of taste as Polidoro. He painted
diiefly in chiaro'scuro (that is, in two colors, light
and shade) friezes, composed of processions of
figures, such as we see in the ancient bas-reli^, sea
and river gods, tritons, bacchantes, £EiunB, satyrs,
Cupids. At Hampton Court there are six pieces
of a small narrow frieze, representing boys and ani-
mals, which apparently formed the top of a bed-
stead or some other piece of furniture ; these will
give some fieunt idea of the decorative style of Poli-
doro. This painter was much employed at Naples,
and afterwards at Messina, where he was assassi-
nated by one of his servants for the sake of his
money.

P&LLEGRINO DA MoDENA, an excellent painter,
and one of Raphael's most valuable assistants in
his Scriptural subjects, carried the ''Roman
School " to Modena.

At this time there vnts in Ferrara a school of
painters very peculiar in ^tyle, distinguished chiefly
by extreme elegance of execution, a miniature-likf
neatness in the details, and deep, vigorous, con-
trasted colors — as intense crimson, vivfd green,
brilliant white, approximated ; — a little grotesque

r

BCHOLARS 07 RAPHAEL. 287

in point of taste, and rather like tho vary aatlj
GflTiuan Bctiool in feeling and treatment, but with
awa grace and ideality. TLere is a. picture in our
National Gallerj bj KIozKolino da Feirara (No.
82) , wliicli will give a very good idea of this etyla,
both in ita beuittica and its singularitiea.

One of these Ferrarese painters, Benventto Ga-
B^FALO, studied fur some time at Rome in th«
Hhool ot Rapbael, hut it does not appear that ht
aseieted, like most of the other students. Id any of
hie worlis. lie was older than Raphael, and already
adyanced in h is art before ho went to Rome ; bat
wliile there he knew how to profit by the higher
principles which were laid down, and studied as-
eiduously ; with a, larger, freer style of drawing,
and a certain eleration in the expreeeiun of bia
beads acquired in the school of Raphael, ho com-
bined the glowing color which characterized the
first painters of his native city. There ia a email
picture by Garofalo in our National Gallery (No.
61), which is a very fair example of his style. The
subject is a Yision of St. Augustine, rendered stiU
more poetical by the iutruduction of the Virgin and
Child above, and the figure of St. Catherine, who
Itonds behind the aaint. Garofalo's small pictnm
■ra not uncommon ; his large pietures are chieSy
oonfiued to Ferrara and the churches around it.

TiDALDi of Bologna, Innocskza da Imola, and
TiHOTEO DELLA YiTE, wsTS also pointen of Ihi

I

288 KARLY rCAUAN PAIKTBBS.

Boman scbool, whose worlu ore very eeldoni tnet
with in England.

Another painter, who must oot be omitted, waa
OlDl.111 Clotio- He wad origiuatlj a monlc, anil
begun bj imitating the miiiiaturee in the iUimii.
na(«d inieaaU and psalm-bocike ueed ia the ehurcb.
He tlien studied at Kome, aod was particulorlj in-
debted to llichael Angelo and Giulio RoioaDo. Hii
vorka are a proof that greatnesii and corrcctnees of
■t^le da not depend on size and space; for into a
few inches square, into the arabeeqae omamenll
round a page of manuscript, he could throw a. feel-
ing of the Bublime and beautiful worthy of the
great ma«ten of art. The vigor and preciaion of
hiB dmwing in the most diminutive figures, the im-
Bginatlve boaut; of some of hie tinj compositionB
(for Giuliu was no copjist), ia almost inconceiT-
able. His worlcs were enormouslj' paid, and mt&-
cuted only for sovereign princee ond rich prelatae.
Fifteen jeara of his life were spent in the service of
PopePaiil m. (1S34~1S49), for whom his Com
productions were executed. He died in 15T8, at
the age of eighty.

Besides the Italians, many paintera came from
beyond the Alps to place themselves under the
tuition ofllnphael ; among these were Bernard Ton
Orlay from Brusaela, Michael Coxcie from Mouhlin,
and George Penz from Nuremberg. But the inllu-
ence of Raphael's mind and style is not very ap-
parent in any of theee painters, of whom wo ahall

fOHOLABS OV RAPHAEL. 289

HiYO more to say hereafter. Bj George Penz, there
is a beautiful portrait of Erasmus in the Royal
Gkillery at Windsor.

Pedbo Campana, who was a great favorite of
Charles V., carried the principles of the Homan
Bchool into Spain.

On the whole, we may say that while Michael
Angelo and Raphael displayed in all they did the
inspiration of genius, their scholars and imitaton
inandated all Italy vrith mediocrity :

** Art with hollow forms was fed^
Bat the mml of art lay dead.*

19

(X}BREGGIO AND GIORGIONE, AND TOED

SCHOLAHS.

WniLB the great painters of the Florentine
■ehool, with Michael Angelo at their head, were
carrying out the principle of ybrm, and thoee of
Romo — the followers and imitators of Raphael —
wen* carrying out the principle of expression ; —
and the first school deviating into exaggeration, and
the latter degenerating into mannerism, — there
arose in the north of Italy two extraordinary and
original men, who, guided by their own individual
genius and temperament, took up different prin-
ciples, and worked them out to perfection. One
revelling in the illusions of chiaro^scuro, so that to
him all nature appeared clothed in a soft transparent
veil of lighu) and shadows ; the other delighting in
the luxurious depth of tints, and beholding all
nature steeped in the glow of an Italian sunset.
They chose each their world, and " drew after them
a third part of heaven."

Of the two, Giorgione appears to harve been the
most original, — the most of a creator and inventor,
Correggio may possibly have owed his conception
ftf melting, vanishing out i and transparent

(290)

I

COllREOatO iHD alOROIONE. 21)1

■hadows, and hie peculiar feeling of grace, to Lion
ardo da Vinci, whose pictures were ecattered ova-
the wbole of ttis Durth of Italj. Giorgione found
in bis own fervid, melunuhol; uliaroctcr tlis inysterj
of his coloring, — warm, glowing, ypt subdued, —
luid the noble yet tender sentiment of his heads :
oharocteristicB which, transmitted to Titian, be-
came in coloring more sunahin; and brilliant,
without losing depth and harmonj ; and in ex
preaaion more cheerful, still retaining intelleci ani
dignity.

We will Erst speak of Correggio, so styled fr-iin
his birthplace, a small town not farfroui Modena^
now called Reggio. His real name was Antonic
Allegri, and be was bom towards the and of tha
year 1403. Raphael Vfas at this time ten years
old, Miehael Angela twenty, and Lionardo da
Vinoi in his fortieth year. The father of Antonio
waa Pellegrino Allegri, a tradesman possessed of
moderate propnrty in houeee and land. He gave
his son a careful education, and had him inetriicteH
fai litsrature and rhetoric, as well as in the rudi-
ments of art, which he imbibed at a ycry early age
from an uncle, Lorenzo Allegri, a painter of little
merit. Afterwards he studied for a short time
under Andrea Mantogna ; and although, when this
painter died, in 150G, Antonio was but thirteen, ha
bad BO far pr(i6t«d by his instructions and those of
Francescn Map.tc^a, who continued his father'*
Kbool, that ho Jrew well and cougbt that tasta

SAKLT I

t PAINTEU.

fe

knil Rkill in foreshortening wliich distinguislied hii
lut^r works. It naa an art which Mant^tia maf
kiruoat b«eaid to have invented, and which kos first
taught in his ocademj ; but the drj, hard, prcciM,
meagre style of the Alantt^a echool, Correggio sooa
abaodoned for a mtuiner entirelj hia own, in which
inaTeiQi!nt,Tariety, and, above all, the most dvLL-ata
grulation of light and shadow, ara the princijHit
elamenta. All tbeee quniilias are apparoit in the
earliest of bis authenticated pictuiee, jiointed in
1512, when he was about eighteen. It is one of the
Urge altar-pieces in the Dresden Oallerj, called the
Hndunna di Sua Francesco, because St. Francis is
one uf the principal figures. The in9uence of the
taste and manner of Lionardo da Vinci ia very con-
spiououe in this picture.

In 1519, haviog acquired some repat'Ltion and
fortune in his profeasion, Corrf^o married Giro-
Uina Merlini ; and in the following year, being
then six-und -twenty, he was comuissjooed to paint
in freeco the cupola of the charoh of San Gioronni
•t Parma. He chose for his subject the Ascension
of Christ, who in the centre appears soaring up-
wards into heoTen, Hurroundad bj the Twelve Apos-
tles, seated aruund on clouds, and who appear to ba
watching his progress to the realms abovo ; below
»re the four EvangelifU in the four arches, with
the four Fathers of the Church. The iigures in the
up]>er part are of coune oolussal, and fureshurtaned
with admirable ekill, so as to produue a wonderfu]

I

eBeat when viewed from belong. In the apsia of tha
tamo church, uvei tbe high altar, lie painted the
CoroDfttion of the Virgin ; but thia wob dtBtrojed
irhen the chcrch was Bubsequaiitly enlarged, ^nd
is DDW onlj known thrriugh engraTings and tha
oopiea made by Anaibal Carracci, which nro jt»-
MTved at Naplea. For thia work Curr^gio received
five hundred gold crowns, equal to about fifteen
hundred pounds at the present day.

About the year 1525, Correggio was invited to
Uantua, whore he painted for tlie reigning Duke,
Federigo Gonzoga, the Education of Cupid, wliich
ia now in our National Gallery. Fur the same
aocoapliehed but profligate prince ho painted the
other mythological Htoiies of lo, Iioda, Danae, and
Antiope.*

Passing over, for the present, a varie^ of works
which Correggio painted in the next four or live
years, we shall only obaerve that the cupola of San
Giovanni gave so much satisfaction, that he was
called upon to decorate in the same manner the
oalhedral of Parma, which is dedicated to the Vir>
gin Hary. In the centre of the dome he represented
tbe Assumption — the Madonna soaring into heaven,
while Christ descends from hie throne in Mils to
neat her. An innumorable host of saints and an-
^Is, rejoijing and singing hymns of triumph, sur-

UMBDrehEH

ttUTTI .

N MaDgcd to King CbulU.

Ji04 UBLT ITALUN PlINTKIU,

roand these principal pereonagei. Lower domi in
k I'iri'lo staod the Apostles, und, lower etill, Gauii
IiOiU'ing cnndi^labra »nd enioging censers. In lu-
nettes below are tbe four Evangelists, the figure <i£
St. JubD being one of the (ioest. The 'wbole com-
position is full of glotious life ; wonderful for tlM
■'elief, the bold end porfact foreshortening, the mao-
Kgement of the chiuo'Bcnro ; but, from the icnu-
merable Itguros, and the plaj of the limbs soen from
below, — tegs and arms bciss aoro conspicuous tb&D
bodies, — the great artist was Teproacbed in his lif»-
time with having pointed *' un gucizetto di rana "
(a fricassde of bogf) .* Tbcr^ afe several engrav'
in^ of this magnificent work ; but those who would
form a just idea of Corr^gio's suUims conception
and power of drawing should see some of the car-
toons pTopured for the frescoue and drawn in cbali
bj Correggio's own band. A few of these, repre-
senting chieflj angels and cherubini, nere discov-
ered a few years agi> at Purma, rolled up Li a ^r-
Tot. Tliaj were conveyed to Rome, thence brocghl
to Rnglnad bj Dr. Braun, and ora now in the
British Uuseum, baring been lately purchased b;
the trustees. These heads and forms are gigantio,
nearly twice the size of life ; yet such is the excel-
lence of the drawing, and the perluut grace and
■weetnees of the eipi-eesion, tiiat they strike the
Kincy OS sublimely beautiful, without giving th(

• In eookctj'ODL; ibe UDd-leip d{ llMCriigi annwdf UMbgdM

I

riiglit«et imprefiBion of exa^eration or eSbrt. Our
urtista vho are preparing curtuans for works on a
large scale could liave no finer atudiea thuD theea
gmud frogm^tB, emauatloDs of the mind and cren-
tione of tbe hand of one of the most distinguishod
magterH in art. They show hia manner of Betting
to work, and are in thia respect an invaluable lee-
san to joung painters.

Con-^gio Sntahed the dome of the cathedral of
Parma in 1530, and returned to lila native town,
Bphere he resided for the remainder of hia life. We
And that in Che ^ear 1533 he yuR one of the trit-
neseee to a marriage which was celebrated in the
oftFtle of Oorreggio, between Ippolito, Lord of Cor-
Teggio, and son of Veronica Gamhara, the illuetri
ouB poetoaa (widow of Ghiberto da Corroggio), and
Chi&ra da Correggio, hia cousin. Corrcggio's pree-
ance on thia occasion, and his signature to the mar-
riage-deed, proved the aatimation in which he waa
held by hia imvereigne. In the following year he
bad engaged to paint for Alberto Panatroli an altar-
piocfl ; the aubject fixed upon is not known, but ib
I* certainly known that he received in advance, and
before his work was commenced, twenty-five gold
crownB. It waa destined never to be begun, for
Boon after signing thia agreement Correggio waa
ieized with a malignant fever, of which he died,
after a few daya' illness, March 5, 1534, in the
forty-firat year of hia age. lie was buried in liia
bmily sepulchre in the Franciacan convent at

I

29q xablt rriLiAw FjjNTBBe

Cnrreggio, and b few nurds placed over hiB toml
mwalj recurd the diij of his death, and Lis d)uu«
and profaaaion — " Miestro Aktowo Alleobi, b>
PtHTOM."

There ii a traditiaD that Corn^io vu a self
•duoated painter, unaaaisted eicejit bj hia own
tranBceadent genius ; tliat be lived in groat ubacur-
ity and iadigence, and that ha vae ill remunerated
for his works. And it is further related, that haT-
ing been paid in copper coin a sum of sixty crowns
for one of hia pictures, ha carried home this load
in a Back on his shouldara, being anxious to reliova
the naats of bis family ; and stopping, wlien heated
and wearied, to refneb himself with a draught of
cold water, he waa seiiied with a fever, of which he
died. Though this tradition has been proTod to be
&]se, and is complete!; refuted by the uirciim-
stances of the last years of bis life related above,
yet the impreeaion that Corr^gio died miaeiablj
uid in indigeoce prevailed to a late period .* From
whatever cause it arose, it was early current. An-
nibal Carracci, writing from Parma fifty years after
the death of Correggio, saya, " 1 rage and weep to
think of the fate of this poor Antonio ; so great a
man — if, indeed, he were not rather an angel in
the fleeh — to be lost here, to live unknown , and to
dio unhappily ! " Now, he who painted the dome

QjComg^ii

OOKREGOIO.

297

Df tite Cathedral of Parma, and wlio stood bj aa
OUQ uf the chosen witnessefl of the marriage of hia
■ovsreign, could not have lived unkouwn and udtb-
gardod ; and we have no juet reaaon to aupjioso that
this gentle, amiable, and anambitious man died
unhappily. With r^ard to hie deGcient education,
it appears certain that be studied anetomj undei
Lombardi, a, famous physician of that time ; and biB
troiks exhibit not only a closaical and cultirated
tata, but a knowledge of the sciences — of optics,
mathematics, perspective, and chemistr;— as far oa
they were tiien carried. Ilia use and skilful pre-
paration of rare aod eipeDaiye colurs imply neither
povertj nor ignorance. His modest, quiet, amiable
temper and domestic habits may have given rise to
the report that ha lived naglacted and obscure in hia
native city ; he had nut, like other great mastera
of his time, an academy for teaching, and a rati-
nne of Bcholara to nprcad bia name and contend for
the supremacy of their muster. Whether Correggis
ever visited Rome is a point undecided by any evi-
dence for or against, and it ia moat probable that
he did not. It ia aaid that be waa at Bologna,
where lie saw Raphael's St. Cecilia, and, after
contemplating it for aome time nitb admiration,
ha turned away, esckiming, "And I loo am a
painter (anch'io aono pittore) ! " — an anecdoti.
which BhowB that, if unambitious and unpresum*
tug, he viae not without a consciousnees of bis own
«ierit.

p

298 K&BXT ruLiAS faditebs.

The fiCher of Com^io, PeUegrino AUfgri, who
BDTvived him, repnid the twenty-five gold crotnii
which hia eon had Teceivei) in itdranee for work he
did not live to completa. The only son uf Currep
gio, Pomponio Quirino All^i, became a painter,
but never attuined to any groat reputation, and
uppaara to have heen of a carei«ss, reetJeee dispo-

We shall now give Borne acooant of Correggio'l
worts. Uis two greatest perforniances, the dome
of the San Giovanni and that of the Catbediul of
Parma, have been mentioned. His Rmaller pio-
tures, though not numerous, are diSused through
so many gaUariea, that they cannot be said to Iw
rare. It is remarkable that they are very acldom
met with in the posBeeaion ofindividuale, but, with
few esceptioos, are to he found in royal and pnblio
collectiona.

In onr National Gallery ace five piotar«e by Oor-
reggio. Two are studies oF angels' heads, which,
ae they are not found in any of the existing fres-
coes, are supposod to have formed part of the com-
poeitian in the San Giovanni, which, aa aJready r*-
lated, was destroyed. The other three axe among
bis most celohnL ted works. The first. Mercury teach-
ing Cupid to read in the preaence of Venus, ia an
tpitome of all the qualities whioh charaetoriie th^
oil-painter ; that peculiar smiling grace which ii

the eipra

n of a hind of Elysian liappiai

that Sowing outline, that melting softaess of ton^

I

I

trliioh on qiiJt« illuBive. " Those irbo may not
pArfaetlj understand trhoit artists and critics mean
when thoy dwell with rapture on Curreggio's won-
derfut cAtaru'scuro, should laok well intii this pio-
ture. They will perceive that in the painting of
the limba they can look through the BhaddTCs into
the Eabstanoe, as it might be into the flesh _od
blood ; the ehadovrs seem mutable, accidental, and
aerial, as if beliaecn tho eye and the colors, and not
incorputated with them. In this lies the iuimitabla
excellence of Correggro." •

This picture was painted for Fedetigo Gonnaga,
Dake of Mantua. It was brought to England in
1629, when the Mantua Gallery viae bought by
our Charlea I., and hung in his apartment at
Whitehall ; aflerwards it passed into the posses-
Bion of the Duke of Alva ; then, during the French
invasioD of Spain, Murat secured it as his share of
the plunder ; and bin widow aold it to tho Slarquess
of Londonderry, Irom whom it was purchased by
the nation. The Ecce Homo was purchased at the
lame time. It is chieBy remarkable for the fine
head of the Virgin, who faints with anguish on
belioldiog the suffering and d^radation of bet
Bon ; the dying away of sense and sensation under
the inituonco of mental pain ie expressed with ad-
fliirablo and affecting truth. The rest of the pio-
tora is perhaps rather feeble, and the bead of

•"PuMlcOiiteriE. of Art," Murray, laU, in .hiell tiKn k t

I

BOO KABLI ITALLUI FlINIEBa,

Christ not to be compared to one crowned with
thorns which is id ttia pocBsieion of Lord Cowper,
nor with aaother in the Bridgewuter oalJection.
The third picture ia & small but moBt ssquiait«
Mudunnu, known OB ihe VUrffe ou Porict, trom
llie little biuket in front of the picture. Tlie Vir-
gin, seated, holds the iufant Christ ou her knee, and
looks duvrn upon him with the ibndeet expresaion
of mutL-rnal rapture, while he gtizea up in bar face.
Joseph is seen in the background. This, though
called a Ilolj Family, h b. simple domestic scene ;
bnd Corroggio probably in this, as in other in-
stances, made the original study from hia wife and
child. Another picture in our gallery ascribed to
Corr^gio, the Christ on the Slouat of Olives, ii
R Tcry fine old copy, perhaps a duplicate, of an
original picture now in the poeseasiun of the Duke
of Wellingl-in.

In the gallery of Parma are Gve of the most im-
portant and beautiful pictures of GoR^glo. The
most colehrat«d is that called the St. Jerome. It
represents the saint presentiDg to the Virgin and
Child bifi translation of the Scriptures, white on the
Other side the Magdalen bends down and kisses with
devotion the feet of the infant Saviour.

Tlie Dresden Gallery ia also rich in pictura ol
Oorreggio. It contains eis pictures, of which four
are large altar-pieces, bought out of churches in
Modeua. Among thvee is the famous picture of th(
Nativity, called the Notte, or Mff/U, of Corr^gio

I

301

be(MD*e it is illaminated onlj by the unearthly
Iptendor wbich beama round ttie head of tbo ia<
&Dt Saviour ; and the still more rnmoiiB Magdalen,
who lies e»t«ndod on the ground intentlj reading
the Scripturee. No picture in the world has beea
more universally admured and multiplied, through
copies and cngravinga, than this little picture.

In the Florence GuUerj are three pictures. Ono
of these is the Madonna on her knees, adoring with
ecetosj hei Infant, who lies before her on a portion
of her garment.

In the Louvre are two of hia works — the Marriage
of St, Catherine, and the Antiope, painted for ths
Duke of Mantua.

In the Naples Gallery there are three ; one of them
a most lovelj 31adonna, called, from the peculiar
head-dresa, the Zingorella, or Gypsy.

In the Vienna Gallery are two ; and at Berlin
three — among them the lo and the Leda.

Ihore is in the British Museum a complete colleo-
tion of engravings after Correggio.

Corroggio bad no school of painting, and all bii
authentic works, except his frescoes, were executed
Boleljbyhis own hand. In the execution of hisfres-
eoes he had assiatanU, but they could hardly bs
sailed his pupils. lie hod, however, a host of imi-
taton, who formed what has heen called the Schocd
of Parmu, of which he is considered the head. Tha
most famous of those imitators was Francesco Moi-

k, of whom n

w to speak.

KIKLT ITALUS PAISTW

PAEMIGIANO.

Dan UOa, died II

r

I
I

FRUfCDCo HizEOM, oT Mazzdou, c&Ued Pjua
BUND, nod, by tiie Italians, II Paejuquniko (to
exprsM bj this endearing diminutiva the love aa
well as the admiration ha inEpired even from hii
boyhood), was a native of Parma, bora on the 11th
of January, 1503, He had two unclwwho -wore
punterg, and by them tie wail sarlj initiated into
•oma knowledge of deeigning, though be could have
owed little alee to tham, both being Tery mediocre
artists. Endowed with a moat pracocious gcniui,
ardent id every pursuit, he studied indefatigably,
and at the aga of fourtoan ha produced a picture of
the Baptism of Chrint, wonderlul for a boy of hit
age, eiliibitiug oven thus early much of that easy
gtaea which ha is auppoeed to have learned from
Correggio ; but Curreggio had not then visited
Parma. When he arrived there, lour years after-
wards, for the pitrpose of painting the cupola of
San Giovanni, Francesco, then only eighteen, wai
■elected ua one of hie asistants, and he took this
opportunity ofimbuing his mind with a style which
certainly had muah analogy with his own taste and
character. Parmigianu, however, had too much
genius, too much ambition, to follow in the foot-
steps of another, however great. Though not gr»l

pABMiauNo. SOS

mough liimself to be first in that age of greatneag,
yet, had hiarivalBandconteaporarlea been leas than
giuDts, he must have overtopped them all. Ab it
was, feeling the impoBnibility of riaing above such
mea oa Micbaul Aiigolo, Raphael, Curreggio, jet
feeling also the coneciousneeB of his own power, he
endoavored to be original by combining what has
not jet been harmoDiiied in nature, therefore could
hardly auccoed in art — the grand drawing of Mi-
chael Angelo, the antique grace of Raphael, and
the melting tones and eweetneee of Correggio, Par-
baps, had he been ^ti^edto look at nature through
hia own aoul and eyes, he would have dona better ;
had be truatod himself more, he would have eacnped
■ome of tboae faults which have rendered many of
hia worka unpleosing, by giving the impreeaion of
effort, and of what in art ia called manncrijwi. Am-
bitious, Tursatile, aecompliEhed, generally admired
for hia hanasome peraon and graceful manners, Par-
migiano would have been spoiled by Tanity, if he
had not been a man of strong seuaibility and of
almost fastidious sentiment and refinement. Wlien
these are added to genius, the result is generally a
tinge of that melancholy, of that dlssatiBfactiun with
■11 that is achieved or acquired, which seem to have
(ntered largely into the temperament of this paintOT,
Tendering hie character and life extremely intereet-
ing, while it strongly distinguisbee him from the
•arenely mild and equal-tempered Raphael, to whom
he wna afterwards compared.

304

R.UU.T tTJLLUN r AUTISM.

Whan Pannigiuno wna in hia twentieth year, he
Mt off fur Rome, The recent ara^eesion iif Clement
VU., a (iewlared pfttrun of art, and the death of
Raphiul, had opeued a sploDdid Tiata of gloiy aad
■UCDBSB to hia imagination. He carried with him
to Rome three pictures. One of theee was an es-
ample of hia graceful geniaa. It represont«d the
Infimt Christ seated on hia mother's knee, and tak-
ing eomo fruit from thelapof an ajigel. Tbeeeoond
waa a proof of hia wonderful dexteritj of hand-
It waa a portnut of himaelf aeated in hia atelier
amid hia books and nuaical iaatruments; but the
whole acene represented on the panel oa if Tiewedm
a conrex mirror- The third picture nos an in-
■tanoe of the succeea with which he had studied thfl
magiciil efiecta of chiaro'ecuro in Curreggio,—
torchlight, dajlight, and a celestial light, being oil
introduoed without diaturbing the harmonj of tha
coloring. Thia last he presented to the pope, who
received both the joung painter and hie offering
moat gracioualj. He became a favorite at Rome,
and, OS he atudioualy imitated while there the worka
of Raphael, and resembled him in the eleganoe of
hia peraon and mantiurs, and the generosity of hia
diapceitioQ, the poets complimented hira bj saying,
or einging, that the bta-lost and lamenteil Raphael
hod revived in the likeness of P&rmigiano, Wa
can now measure more justly the distance which
•eparated them.

While at Rome, Francwoo was greatly patron-

PAHUIQIANO, 'iJO

Iwd by the Oardinal Ippolito de Medici, ond
painted for Lim HBveral beuutiful pictures ; for the
pope also eeverul others, and the portrait of a
Toung captain of his guard, Lorenzo Cibo, which
b supposed to be the Sne portrait now nt Windsor.
For a noble ladj, a. certain Donna Maria Buffidini,
he painted a grand altar-piece to adorn the chapal
of ber tamilj at Citti di Coatello. This is the eale-
braCedTiflion ofSt. Jerome, now in our National Gal-
lery. It repreeents the Virgin holding a book, with
the In&nt Christ leaning oa her knee, aa seen above
in a glory, while St. John the Baptist puinte to the
oeleetial vision, and St. Jerome is seen asleep in the
background. This picture is an eminent esample
of all the benutlea and faults of Parmigiano. The
Madonna and the Ohild are models of dignity and
grace; the drawing is correct and elegant; the
play of the lights and shadows in delicate manage-
ment, worthy of Oorreggio. On the other hand, tha
attitude of St. John the Baptist is an attempt at
Bngularity in drawing, which is altogether forced
and theatrical ; while the foreehortoned figure of
St. Jerome in the background is most unaimfort-
ably distorted. Notwithstanding these faults, the
picture has always bean much celebrated. Whan
the church in which it etood was destroyed by an
earthquake, the picture was purchased from among
the ruins, and a<\«rwiirdB sold to the Marquis of
Abercorn for fifteen hundred guineas; suljaequently
it passed through Che hands of t<t'o great colleoton.

Sub BABLY tTALIAH

Hf. Hurt Davis and Mr. Wateoo Tajlar, and wm

at length puri^hssod bj the memban of th« Briiuh
Instituliun, aod hj tham ganeronel; preseatod to
the nation.

It is lelatod ibnt Kome was taken b; aamul t, and
pillaged bj the barbaroaa soldiery of the Conetable
da BoutUa, at the vecy tiioa that Panuigiano was
paiDtiog on this picture ; and that he waa do ab-
aorbed bj bia work, that he heard nothing of tbo
tamalt aroond him, till some eoldiera, with ao
officer at their head, broke into hie atelier. As be
tiuned round in quiet eurprifie from bis oaael, the;
were to struck by the baiuty uf his work, aa well
aa by the vompoaura of the artist, that they retired
-witboutdoing him any ii^ury. Sut another par^
afterwards seiied him, inaisted on ransom, uid
lobbed liiin of all he poB8et»id. Thua reduced to
poverty, he fled fruui Rome, now a acene of iode-
■eribahlu horrors, and reached Bolognsi barefoot and
penDilesa.

But the man of genius lias at least this high
prhilege, that he canios with him evorywhece two
things of wbicb no earthly powar can rob hinj —
hia talent and his famo. On arriving at Bologna,
h» drew and etohed some beaatiful compoeitions.
He IB Kiid by some to have himEelf invented the ail
oielchinff, — that is, of corroding, or, as it la tech-
nically termed, Utinff the lines on the copper-plat«
hj meiina of nitrous ai^id, instead of cutting them
irith the grarei. By this naw-found art he ml

FAKMIGIAMO. 3v7

rdJQTod from the immediatepraasureof poTerty,aiicl
TQij BOOH found bimselr, as a painter, in full em-
He exm '

of thii Dresden Gallerj, attd the Madonna ddV colla
Iwngo (or iong-necked Madonna) in Hie Pitti PuluoB
at Florence ; also, a fumouB altar-piece called the
St. Margaret. Of all these there i

r

P

After residing neacl; fuur yeura at Bologna, Par-
migiano returned, rich and celebrated, to hia native
oitj. He reached Parma in 1531, and was imme-
diately engaged to paint in heaca a new church
which had recently been erected to the honor of
tha Tirgin Mary, aod called the Steccala. There
were, howeTer, aoma delays on the aide of his em-
ploytn, and more on his own, and four yean
passed before he set to work. Much indigaatiou
was exoiCed by his dilatory conduct ; but it was
appeased by the interference of his friend Franceeco
Boiardo, who offered himself as hia surety for the
Bompletion of hia undertaking within a given time.
A new contract was signed, and Parmigiano there-
upon presented to his friend hia picture of Cupid
framing his Bow, a lovely composition, bo beuuti-
ful that it has been again and again attributed to
Correggio, and engraved under hie name, but it ia
andoubtedly by Parmigiano. Several repetitions
of it were executed at the time, so much did it dft-
light all who saw it. Engravings and copies Ukoi

p

I
I

8QS EAILLT >T>mv PllNTKBS.

•riM abound ; a \erj good cop; is in tlie Bridge
water QaUar;. The picture vrh'tdi is ragitrded aM
tlio original ii in the gallenr of iJie BetTedere »{

At lost be began bia irorla in the Steeoata, and
tht-fe iie exeoDted hia figim of Uoeee in not to
break the Tables of the Lav, and his Eve in act to
))luok the forbidden Irait. The former is & proof
of Uic height he could aapire to in eubUme conoep-
(ion ; we have few ciaiapleQ in art of eqnal gmndeut
of ofauacter and drawing. The poet Grujr ao-
knowledged that, when he piotured bis Bard,

he troubled air,"

he hud this mixgnifieent figare full in hta mind.
The Eve, on the other band, is a perfect uxample of
that peculiar grace in which Pannigiano eicelled,

After he had punted these and n few uthei
figiiree in the church, more delnja ensued. It is
■aid bfBomethat Parmigiano had wasted tuB money
in gambling and diBsipation, and now gave himsell
np to the pursuit of the phiioaopher'a atone, with a
hupeof repairinghis lomes. Oneof his biographerr
has taken pains to disprove these imputations ; but
that ho was improvident, reetlcss.and fond of pleas-
ure, is admitted. Whatever might have been the
eause, he broke his contract, and was thrown inte
(visan. To obtivin bis freedom, he entered into a
kow ongagement, but vaa no sooner at liberljr Ibas

Iw wcapod to the tenitorj of Cremomi. Hera hii
xmstitutioaal uielancholj seized bim ; and though
he lived, or rather laoguished, long enough to paint
Kme beautiful pictures, he died ta a fuw monthi
afterwards, and waa, at liis own request, laid in
the earth without any caSin or coTeriog, only a
DTOWofcjpTeee-wDod was placed on his hreast. He
died juBt twenty years after Raphael, and &t the
Bome age, having only completed bis tbirty-soventh
jeai.

Pannigiano, in bis beet pictures, ia one of ths
most fascinating of painters, — dignified, graceful,
barmoniouB. His children, copids, and angels, are
I IB general exquisite ; bis portraits are noble, and
I >ie perhaps bis finest and most faultless produo-
1- tione, — the Mosee and the Eve excepted. It waa
the error of Pannigiano that in studyiog grace he
vsfl apt to deviate into aSectation, and become
what the French call monjere; all ttudicd grace is
dingreenble. In his female figures be lengthened
the limbs, the nocks, the fingers, till the elfect woe
Dot grace, but a kind of stately feebleness ; and at
lie imitated at the same time the grand drawing
and large manner of tlicbael Angdo, the result
conveys an impreft«ion of something quite incongru-
ons in nature and in art. Then his Madoniiaj
haie in general a mannered grandeur and elegance,
tometbing between goddesee and duchesseB ; and
bis female saintA are something between nympbi
Uid maids of honor. For iuBtance, :

I

Bio SUILT ITALIAM PUSTEI19.

mnpoEitioDS, not even the Cupid ahftping hifl Bow,
DM becD mora popul&r than hia Marria^ of St
OtitheriDs, of vhich there ere so laaaj rapetittonB i
ft &mous one in the ooUeclion of Lord Normanton ;
utotber, noaller and most exquisite, in the GroB-
Tenor Giiller;, — not to ipeak of an inSoitudeof
oopiae and eDgravings; but is not the Uadoona,
with her long, slender neck, and her half-uverUd
head, far more ariatocratio than divine? tind doM
not St. Catherine buld out her prettj Gnger fo( tha
ring with the aii of a lady-bridoT — and moet of
the eacred pictures of Parmigiano are linblo^o the
nue oensure. Annlbal CarraMi, in a &mous eon-
net, in whiuh ha pointed out what waa most wor-
thy of imitation in tha older painters, recommends,
■ignificiuitly, " & little " of the grace of Parmi-
g;iano ; tbeiehy indicating, what we feel to be the
truth, that he had too much.

Bon UIg, died lUl.

Tms painter waa anothw grettt inventor — one of
tboeewboetamped his own individuality on his art.
lie WOB essentially a poet, and a tubjective poet, who
fused his own being with all he performed and <n«-
fttod. If Rapliael be the Shakspeare, then Giiuk
j?one may be atjlad the Bjron, of painting.

He WM horn at Oastel Fraaoo, r small town M

I

4he territory of TraviHO, and hiB proper name itaa
Giorgio Barbarelli. Nothing is known of his
&milj or of his jounger j^am, except that, having
shown a strong diEpoaition to &rt, he wa" brought,
nhen a boj-, to Venice, and placed under the tui-
tion of Gian Bellini. As he grew up he was di»-
tingaiahed bj his tall, noble figure, and the dignity
of Ilia deportment : and bis companions called him
Gioi^ione, or George the Great, by which nick-
name he has, aitar the Italian fiisbion, deEceaded
to posterity.

Qiorgione appears to have been endowed by
nstare with an intense love of beauty, and a, sense
of hannony which pervaded hia whole being. He
was famous as a player and composer on the lute,
to which he sung hia own voraea. lu hia workstwo
obarootaristica prevail — sentiment and color, both
tinged by the peculiar temperament of the man.
The sentiment ia noble, but melancholy j and th4
color decided, intense, and glowing. Hie eieon-
tion had a freedom, a careless mastery of band, or,
to borrow the untranalatahlo Italian word, a
^netaCura, unknown before hia time. 'Ihe idea
that he founded bis style on that of Lionardo da
Vinci cannot be entertained by those who have
studied the works of both. Nothing can bo mors
distinct in character and feeling-
It is to be regretted that of one ao int^reating in
his character and hia works we know ea little ; yet
giore to be regretted that a being gifteil with the

b

( ITILUH FAINTEB9.

seuslbilitj of a poet should huve been
■mplojod cLieflj in decorative painting, and tlial
too ounfined to the outsideaof tbeTenetian palaces.
XUeve creations have been deetrojed b; fire, ruined
bj time, or e&ced bj tiie daiupa of the Lognna,
lie appears to iiave earlj acquired lame in hta art,
aud wa find him la 1504 emploiced, together wiih
Titian, in painting with (reecoes the exterior of th«
Fondiioo dei Tedeecbi (the hall of Exchange belong-
ing to tbe Qarman merchants). That part in-
trusted to Oiorgione he cotered with the moet
beautiful and poetical figures ; but the ugnificance
of the whole was soon after the artist's death for-
gotten, and Vftsari tella us that in his time do one
could interpret it. It appears to have been a sort
of arabesque on a colossal scale.

Giordano delighted in fresco as a vehicle, be-
cansa it gave him ample scope for that lorgenea
and freedom of outline which clianicterixed his
oianner. Unliappily, of his numerous works, only
the mm^st fragments remain. We have do evi-
denoe that he exercised his art elsewhere than at
Venice, or that be ever resided out of tbe Yenetian
loiritorj. In his pictures, the heada, featuree, coa-
tomea, are all stamped with the Venetian oharao-
ter. Ue had no school, though, induced by hh
social and aSectionate nature, he freely imjmrted
what ho knew, and oflen worked in conjunction
with others. Hia lore of music and his love of
pleasure sometimee led him aatraj from, his art

I

GIOBQIOHB. 813

but irwe Dfter.er Iiia inspirera. Both are embodicil
in hia pictures, particularly his exquisite pastorals
ftod concerts, oier nhioh, however, be hue brimtLed
that cast of thought rulaoea and profound feeling
which, in the midst of harmony and beauty, is like
a revelation or a prophecy oT sorrow. All the reet
of what is recorded concerning the life and death of
Giorgione may he told in a few words. Among tha
painters who worked with him was Pietro Luzzo, of
Feltri, near Venice, known in the history of art as
Morta da Feltri, and mentioned by Vaeaci as the in-
ventor, or rather reviver, of arabesque painting in
tliD antique Jityle, which he had studied amid the
dark vaults of the Boman ruins. This Morto, as
BidoI£ relates, was the friend of Giorgione, and lived
under the same roof veith liim. He took advantage
of Giorgione'e confidence to soduce and carry off
from hia [loubb a girl whom ho poBsionately loved.
Wounded doubly by the falsehood of hia mistrsBB
Bud the treachery of his friend, Giorgione sank into
despair, and soon afterwards died, at the early age of
thirty-three. Morto da Feltri afterwords Qed from
Venice, entered the army, and was killed at the bat-
tleof Zara, in 1519. Such is the Venetian tradition.
Giorgione'fl genuine pictures are very rarely to
tw met with ; of those ascribed to him the greater
nnmber were painted by Pietro dolla Vecchia, a
Venetian, who had a peculiar talent for imitating
Giorgione'a manner of execution and style of coloi.
these imitations deceive picture-dealers and collect

S14 £A]

on : the; ouuld nut fur one nuuDent d«ceiTe thnot
wbu bad looked into the/eeUng impreeeod on Gio^
gions'a works. The ddI; picture which oould havs
impoaeii on tlie true loTer of Gioigioae is that in the
pCMsesiioD of Lord Fnuicia ^erton, the Four Agei,
hj Titian, in which the toneof Mntiment nawell aa
the iniuuier of Qioi^iono are eo happily imitated
that for manj jsars it van attributed to bim. It
wai painted by Titian when he was the friend and
dOiily companion of Giorgiune, and under the imnu^
diate influence of his feelings and genius.

Wo raBj divide the undoubted and eiisUng pio-
turcH of Giurgione into three ckssei.

I. The historical subjdcts, which ere very unoom-
mon ; Buch seem to hare been principally confined
to his frescoes, and have mostly perished. Of tbe
few which remain to ui, the muet fkmoas is a pic-
ture in the Brera at Milan, the Finding of Moses.
It iDuy be called rather a romanlic and poetical Ver-
sion than an liistorical reprssenldtion of the scene.
It would shock Sir Gardner Wilkinson. Id the
centre sits the princes under a tree ; she looks
with surprise and tenderness on the chiJd, whiofa
is brought to her by one of her attendants. The
squire or sonoacliul of Iho princess, with knights
and huiies, stand around \ on one side two Jorers
are seated on the grass ; on the other are musicians
and singers, pages with doge. All the figures an
in the Venetian oostiime ; tbe coloring is splmdid,
tod the grace and barmonj of tbe whole compod'

OIOSaiOHB.

sift

I
I

Oaa u erea tbe more enciianting &(riii tho Ra!i'«(/
of the coDCeption. Thia picture, like manj othMH
of tliesameage and style, reminds ub of Close poemi
and talos of the middle agee, in which Dayid and
Jonathan figure a,H " prcux chevalier!,''' and Sir
Alexander of Macedon and Sir Paria of Tro; fight
toamiunentB ia honor of ladies' eya> and the
"blessed Virgin." They mast be tried by thaii
own aim and standard, not hy tbe eeverilj of anti-
quarian criticism.

In tha Academy of Tenice ia preBQired anothev
hietorical picture, yet more wildly poetical in oonr
eeptioD. It commemorates a fact— a dreadful tem-
pest which occurred in 1340, and threntened to orer-
wbelm the whole city of Venice. In Giorgione'i
picture the demons are represented in an iafernal
bark exciting the tempest, while St. Mark, St. Nich-
olas, and St. George, the patron saiuts of Venice,
seated in a amall vessel tossed amid the waves, op-
pose with spiritual arms the powers of beU, and
prevail against them.

In our National Gallery there is a small histori-
cal picture, the death of Peter, the Dominican &iar
and inquisitor, called St. Peter the Martyr, who waa
aesaeaiiiated. This picture ia not of much value,
knd a very inferior work of the meuster.

Saored subjects of the usual kind were so seldom
painted by Giorgione, tliat there are not perhaps
biilf a dozen in existence.

n. There is a class of aubjacts which GioigioiM

816

I PAINTEBS.

I
I

npnMnted with peculiar grace and felicttj. Theg
art in pointing what idjls and I^-rics an in poetrj,
•ad seem like direct inventionB of the airttBt'a ova
mind, tbaogh aoma are supposed to b« Bcenee from
Venetian tales and dotoEs uow loat. ttieee getier-
■llj rspresant groups of cavaliarB and ladies soatecl
in beautiful landacapea under the shade of trees,
converelng or playing on nueica] iDatrnments.
Such pictures are out unlrequent, and have a par-
ticnlar charm, arising from the union of melan-
obolj' feoliug with luznrloue and fietive enjoyment,
and a mysterious allegorical eiguifioauoe now only
to he Hurmiged. In the collection of Lord North-
wick, at Cheltenham, there is a most charming pic-
ture in this style, and in the possession of Mr.
Cunningham there is another. To this clan may
also be referred the exquisite pastoral group of
Jacob and Rachel, in the Dresden Gallery,

HI. Uia porlTaits are magnifiueut. They bars
all, with the strongest roeemblance to generiil na-
ture, a grand ideal coat ; for it was in the chanuCer
of the man to idealize everything he touched. Vcrj
few of his portraits are now to be identified. Among
the finest and most interesting majba mentioned his
3vm portrait in the Munich Oallery, which has an
expression of the profoundeet melancholy. In the
Imperial Gallery at Vienna — rich in Ma works —
there is a picture representinga young man crowned
with a garland of rino-loaTes; another comes behind
him with a concealed diigger, and appears to watob

GIORGIONR,

817

I

t!ui raoment to Btriko. The espres^ian in the two
heads can nevor be forgotten bj tboBe vibo have
looked □□ them. Tbe Imo portrait of a cavalier,
with a page riveting hia armor, ia well known. It
u in the pjjBsesaion of tbe Earl of Carlisle, and
B^led, without muoh probability, Gaaton do Fois.
A beautiful little fuli-lengtb figure in armor, now
in the collection of Mr. Kogers, beora the enma
Dome, and ia probably a study for a St. Uichacl or
a St. George. Lord Byron has celebrated in soma
beautifal lii.ee the improaaion made on his mind by
a picture in the Manfriui Palace, at Venice ; bul
the poet erra in atyling it the "portraits of his son,
and wife, and self." Giorgione never had eithei
Bon or wife. Tbe picture alluded to repreecnte 4
Venetian lady, a cavalier, and a page, — portraite
evidently, but the names are unknown.

Xha Htriking charucteriBtic of all Giorgione'a pio
tares, whether portraits, ideal heads, or compoai
tions, ia the inefiaceable impression they leave oi
the memory — the impresition o{ reality. In the ap
parent simplicity of tbe neana through which thii'
effect is produced, the few yet splendid colors, the
vigorous decision of touch, the depth and tenderDOE&
of the aentimcut, they remind ua of the old religious
inusio to which we have listened in the Italian
ehurchcB — a few aitnple notes, long sustained, deli'
oiously blended, swelling into a rich, full, and per-
foot harmoDj, and melting into the soul.
Though Giorgione left no Bcholars, properly BO

B18 XAKLT IXAIJAir PAIMTIBS.

called, he had many imitators, and no ariisi of
Hme exercised a more ezte&siye and long-falt influ-
ence. He diffused that taste fi>r yiyid and warm
odlor which we see in contemporary and succeeding
artists, and he tinged with his manner and feeling
the whole Venetian school. Among those who were
inspired by this powerful and ardent mind, may he
mentioned Sebastian del Piombo, of whom some ac-
count has already been giyen (see p. 220) ; Jacopo
F&lma, called Old Palma, b. 1518, d. 1548 ; Paris
Bordone, b. 1500, d. 1570 ; Pordenone, b. 1486, d.
1540 ; and, lastly, Titian, the great representative
of the Venetian school. The difference between
Giorgione and Titian, as colorists, seems to be thiSy
that the colors of Giorgione appear as if lighted np
from within, and those of Titian as if lighted from
without. The epithet fiery or glowing would apply
to Giorgione ; the epithet golden would ezpress thi
predominant hues of Titian.

p

Tauso Vbcelu was bom at Codore In the Frl-
ftd, B diBtriet to the north of Venice, where thfl
uuiant fomilj of the Vecelli bad been long settled.
Tbeie u> something ^lerj amusing and cbantcteriatio
In the firat indication of his love of art ; for while
it is Tsoorded of other young artists that thej took
A piece of charcoal or a piece of slate to trace the
images in their ikncj, we are told that the infant
Titian, with an instinctive feeling prophetto of hia
future excellence as a colorist, used the expressed
juice of certain flowers to paint a figure of a Ma-
donna, When lie was a boj of nine years old hia
&thet, Qregorio, carried him to Venice and placed
him under the tuition of Sebastian Zuccato, a
painter and worker in mosaic. He left this school
foi that of the Bellini, where the friendship and
fellonship of Giui^ionc seems enrlj to bate awak-
ened his mind to new ideas of art and color. Al-
bert Durer, who woa at Venice in 1494, and again
in 1507, also influenced him. At this time, when
Titian and Qiorgione were youths of eighteen and
nineteen, they lived and worlied together. It baa
been already related that thef were employed ID
(319)

820 XABLT ITALIAN PAINTEB8.

painting the frescoes of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi.
The preference being given to Titian's performance,
which represented the story of Judith, caused such
a jealousy between the two friends, that they ceased
to reside together ; but at this time, and for some
years afterwards, the influence of Giorgione on the
mind and the style of Titian was such that it be-
came difficult to distinguish their works ; and on
the death of Giorgione, Titian was required to
complete his unfinished pictures. This great loss
to Venice and the world left him in the prime of
youth without a rival. We find him for a few
years chiefly employed in decorating the palaces of
the Venetian nobles, both in the city and on the
mainland. The first of his historical compositions
which is celebrated by his biographers is the Pre-
sentation of the Virgin in the Temple, a large pic-
ture, now in the Academy of Arts at Venice ; and
the first portrait recorded is that of Catherine,
Queen of Cyprus, of which numerous repetitions
and copies were scattered over all Italy. There is
a fine original in the Dresden Gallery. This un-
happy Catherine Comaro, the " daughter of St.
Mark," having been forced to abdicate her crown
in favor of the Venetian state, was at this time
living in a sort of honorable captivity at Venice.
She had been a widow for foriy years, and he has
represented her in deep mourning, holding a rosary
in her hand — the face still bearing traces of that
beauiy for which she was celebrated

It appeira timt Titian was mitiTled about 1512,
bat of his wife we do uot hear anj'thjng muro. It
is 8&id that ber name was Lueia, and wa kiiov
tbbt She bore him three children — two eons, and ft
daughter called Lavinia. It seetoB probable, on a
wmpariBon of dates, that she died about tbe year
1530.

One of tbe earlieet works on wbich Titiai waa
gngoged was the decoration of the coDvent of St.
Acton;, at Padua, in whicb he executed a Beriee of
I frescoes from the life of St. ^ntonj. He was next
I aammoDed to Ferrara by the Duke AlphoBso I.,
P^Dd was employed in his eervire for at least two
Tears. He painted for this prince the beautiful
picture of Bacchus and Ariadne, which is now in
oor National Gallery, and whicb repreeentfl on a
flmall scale an epitome of all the beauties whicb
oharacterize Titian, in the rich, picturesque, ani-
mated compositiou, in the ardor of Bacchus, vho
flings hiniBelf from his car to pursue Ariadne ; tba
dancing bacchanals, the irantic grace of the boo-
ohante, and the little joyous satyr in front, trailing
the head of the sacrifice. He painted for tbe same
prince two other festive subjects : one in whicb a
njmpb and two men are dancing, while another
nymph lice asleep ; and a third, in which a nnmbflf
of children and cupids are sporting round a statne
of Venus. There are here upwiinis of sixty Cgurea
fa) OTsry Tariety of attitude, some fluttering in ths
^, some climbing the fruit-trees, some shooting

822

MiAUT! ITALUH PAINTKBS.

BTTOvs or embracing ntoh other. Tliia piatura h
known aa the Saerifica to the Goddess of Fertili^,
While it remained in Italy it was a studj for tiM
litBt painters, — for Ponesin, the Carracci, Albano,
and Fiaiiniiiga the sculptor, so famouB for his models
of children.* At Farraj-a, Titian also painted tha
portrait of the Erst wife of Alphonso, the fanona
and infamouH Lucreiui Borgia ; and here also ha
formed a friendship with the poet Ariosto, nhoas
portrait he painted.

At this time he was invited to Bone try Leo X.,
for whom Raphael, then in the leoith of bit
powers, waa executing some of hie finest worke. It
is curious to speculate what influence these two
distinguished men might have exercised on each
other had they met ; but it was not so decreed.
Titian was strongly attached to his home and hia
friends at Venice ; and to hie birthplace, the little
town of Cadore, ha paid an annual summer visit,
Hia long absence at Ferrara had wearied him of
courts and prlnoca; and, iastead of g^>itlg to Borne
to swell the luxurious etato of Leo X., he returned
to Venice and remained there statianaiy for tho
next few years, enriching its palaces and churchea
with his magnificent works. These were so numw-
OUB that it would be in vain to attempt to give an
acoonnt even of those considered as the Eneet among

It Huiplaii Oi>iirt,ui< It

TfTttH . 823

Uima. Two, howoFsr, must be pomted out aa pie-
eminBut in beauty and celebrity. First, the As-
luEiption of tbe Virgin, painted for the ohurcli ol
Santa Miiria de' Fniri, acd now in the Academy of
the Fine Arta at Veniee, and well known rrom the
nagniEuent engrnTiog of Schiavone — the Virgin ia
Boaring to heaven amid groupa of angela, while the
npostlea gaze upwards ; an(i, secondly, the Death
of St. Pet»r Martyr when attacked by assaasina at
the entrance of a wood ; the resignation of the
pTOatruta victim and the ferocity of the marderer,
the attendant flying " in the agonies of cowardice,"
with the treaa waving their distracted boughs amid
the violence of the tempest, have rendered this pic-
ture &mouB oa a piece of acenic poetry as well a*
of dramatic expression.

The next event of Titian'a life waa his journey to
Bologna in 1530. In that year the Emperor
Gbarlee V. and Pope Clement VII. met at Bologna,
each iurrounded by a brilliant retioue of the most
diatinguished aoldiors, statcamon.and acholais, of
Germany and Italy. Through the influence of hul
&iend Aretino, Titian was recommended to the
Cardinal Ippolito da' Medici, the pope'a nephew,
through whose patronage he was introduced to the
two potflntalflB who sat to him. One of the por-
traits of Clement VII., painted at this time, is noif
in the Bridgewater Gallery. Charloa V. was bc
«tiiified with his portrait, that he became the zeal
DUB fnend and patron of the painter. It is not pre

824 BiaLI ITAI.

riMl? known which of wventi portraits of tba
emperor painted bj Titian was the one executed at
Bologna od Ibie memorable occtKion, but it ie enp-
posed to be that which repremnts him on lioreeback
ehnrging with hie Ituice, a-rv in the Rojal G&Uerj
%l Madrid, and of which Mr. Rogers ponesses tha
original study. The two portraits of Ippolito da'
Medici in the Pitti Palaoe and the LouTve were also
painted at this p«riod.

After a sojourn of some months at Bologna,
Titian returned to Venice loaded with honore and
rewards. There was no potentate, prince, or poet,
or reigning beau^, who did not oovet the honor
of being immortalized hj his pencil. He had, up to
IhiB time, managed hi* worldly ftfikirs with greot
eoonomj ; hut now he purchased for himself a housv
opposite to Murano, and lived splendidly, combin*
iDg with the most inde&tigable industry the lireli-
est enjoyment of existence ; his hvorite mmpanions
were the architect Sansovino and the witty profli-
gato Pietro Aretlno. Titian has often been re-
proached with hie friendship (or Aretino, and
nothing can be said in his excuse, except that the
proudeet pnncM in Europe condeeoended to Sattcr
and CBTCes this unprincipled literary ruffian, who
was pleased to designate himself ns the " friend of
Titinn, and the scoui^ of princes." One of the
finest of Titian's portraits is Chat of Aietino, in Um
Munich Gallery.

Thus in the practice of his art, in the sociefy of

niua.

S2S

bb fHe&^]s, and in the enjoyment of tha pleasuret
of life, did Titian posa eeveral years. The onl}
painter of his time who vias deemed worthy uroum-
peting with him was Liciniu Regillo, better knuwn
■a PordetionB. Between Titinn and Purdenone
there existed not merelj rivalry, but a personal
liatred, so bitter that Purdenone alFc'cted to tliink
hlH life in danger, and when at Venice painted with
hia shield and poniard Ijing beside bim. As long
■fl Pordeoone lived, Titian had a epur to exertion,
to emulation. All the other good painters of the
time, Pulma, Bonifozio, Tintoretto, were his pupila
or his creatures ; Pordenona would never owe any-
; to htm ; and the pictare called the St. Juft-
at Vienna, shows that he could equal Titian
s own ground.
After the death of Pordenona at Perrora, in 1539,
ritian was left without a riyal. Everywhere in
Italy art was on the decline : Lionurdo, Raphael,
Correggio, had all passed away. Titian himself,
at the age of sixty, was no longer young, but he
■tQl retained all the vigor and the fieehnees of
joath ; neither eye nor hand, nor creative energy
of mind, had failed Iiim yet. lie wasagain invited
to Ferrara, and painted there the portrait of tha
old pope Paul ITI. Ha thea visited Urbino, whera
he painted for tha duka the famous Tenus which
hangs in the Tribune of the Florenae Gallery, and
%any other pictures. Ha agitin, by order of Charle<
Y. repaired to Bologoa, and painted the emperorj

I

S2b BABLT ITAXUK FIQJTERS.

Maoding Bud bj his aide a bvorite Iri^ wolf-dog.
Tbw picture vat given bj Philip IV. Ui uul
Cfciirlea I., but after his death was sold into Spuin,
knd U now at Madrid.

Pupe Paul III. invito hltn to Itotne, whither h«
npairod in 1548. There he pamted that wondDr.
fill picture of the old pope with his two nephews,
tb« Duke Ottavio and CanliDal FarDese. which u
now at Vienna. The head of the pope is a minicla
«f character uod expression. A keen-visi^^ed, thin
littlo man, with meagre fingers like biids'-clawB,
uid an eager cunning look, riveting the gazer like
the iyt of a. snake — nature itaelf ! — and the popa
bad either so little or bo much TBuitj as to be per-
footlj satisfied. He rewarded the painl«r munifi-
cently; be even oSbred to make hisson Pomponio
Kehop of Ceneda, which Titian had the good sense
to refuse. While at Rome he painted 6e?eral pio-
Inrea for the Fameaa familj, among them the
Venus and Adonis, of which a repetition is in our
National GoUerj, and a Danae which excited tha
wimiration of Michael Angelo. At this time Titian
waa sevens-two.

He next, by command of Charles v., repaired tc
Angsburgh, where the emperor held bis court:
eighteen years had elapsed since he first 8at to
Titian, and he was now broken by the cares of go^
wnment, — far older at fifty than the painter at
(erenty-Cwo. It was at Augsburgh that the inci.
dent occurred which has been so often related

I

TQUK. 8S1T

Cliui dropped his ponail, aod Charlea, taking it up
■nd preBantiag it, replied to the artist's excueei
that " Titian was worthy of being served bj Cwtai."
This pretty aoecdote is not without iu parallel in
modem times. When Sir Thomas lAwrsDce was
pointing at A iz-lsr Chapel 1o, as ho stL^ped to plaoa
a picture on his ea«el, the Emperor of Russia antl-
fupated him, and, taking it up, adjustedit himself;
but we do not hear that he mude an; speech on the
occasiou. When at Augsburgh, Titian was ea-
Dobled and created a count of the empire, with a
psKflion of two hundred gold ducate, and his son
Pomponio was appointed canon of the cathedral of
Uilan. After the abdication and death of Charlea
v., Titian continued in great faTor with his suo-
eeeaoT Philip II., for whom he painted several pio-
tares. It is not true, however, that Titian risited
Bpoin. The aeaertion that he did so rests on tbo
sole authoritj of Palomino, a Spanish writer on
art, and, though vihullj unsupported bj evidence,
has been copied from one book Into another. Lutv
roeearchea have proved that Titian returned from
Angshurgh to Venice ; and an uninterrupted BorieB
of letters and documents, with datns of time and
place, remain to show that, with the exception of
this visit to Augsburgh and another to Vienna, ha
nsided constantly in Italy, and principallj at
Venice, (rom 1530 to his death. Notwithstanding
ttv ~Dmpliment8 and patroDage and nominal re-
WaxOB he received &om the Spanish court, Titko

I
I
I

82K KIRLT ITAUAN PAJNTXRS

ma worse off under Philip U. than lie hnd been
nnder Cbarlee V. : hie penaion was cuDstaoilj in
mrraara ; tlie papitente for bia pictures Graded bj
the officiuiU; and ire fiod the gre&t painter oon-
■tiuitt; prasenting petltioDS and complaintB in
moving tanas, wliich alTrayB obtalDsd graciooa but
iUuBive answers. Philip C, who commanded Uia
riches of the Indies, wae fur man; ;earB a debtor to
Titiiin for at least two thousand gold crowns; and
his occouuM wore not settled at the time of his
death. For eur Queen Mary ol England, who
wished to putrjaiie one favored Oj her husband,
ritian painbid several pictures, sOuie of which were
in tba posBeseion of Charles 1. . others hod been
carried to Spain afler the death of Mar;, and an
now in the Royal Gallery at Maurid.

Besides the pictures painted by command for
royal and noble patrons, Titian, who wua unueaa-
ingly occupied, had always a great number of pic-
tures in hia house which he presented to hie friends,
or to the ofBcera and attendants of the court, as a
meaus of procuring their favor. There is extant a
letter of Aretino, in which he deecrihea the soeno
which took place when the emperor summoned his
&varite painter to attend the court at Augsburgta.
" It was," he Bays, " the moat flattering teetimony
to his excellance to behold, ls soon as it was knoirn
that tbe divine painter wiu sent for, the crowds of
people running to obtuii', if possible, the produ»
tians of his art ; and ho-, ihey endeavored to par

I

TITIAN. 321

rtiBfe the pictures, great and Hmall, and ever^tliing
tbat ytae in tlie house, at anj price; for everybody
nems assurod that bis auguitt luujtstj will eo treat
bis ApeLlea that tie will no longer condeai'end to
aierciee hia pencil except to ublige him."

Years passed on, and seamed to have no powR
to queocb tbe ardoi of this wonderful old man.
He was eightj-one when ba painted tbe Martyrdom
of St. Laurence, one of his largest and grandeet
eompositions. The Mugdalen, the baif-length
figure with uplifted strooniing eyes, which he sent
to Philip U., was executed even later ; and it woa
not till he was approaching bis ninetieth year
that hg Bhowed in bis works symptoms of enfeebled
powers ; and thea it ecemed ae if sorrow rather
than time bad reached him and conquered him at
lB"t. Tbe death of many friends, the companions
of his convivial hours, left him "alone in his
glory." He found in bis beloved art the only
lefiige trom grief. Uis son Pomponio was still tha
BBme worthless) proBigate in age that he had bean
in youth. Hi" sou Orazio attended upon him with
truly filinl duty and affection, and under bis
father's tuition had beoouio an acoompliabed artist ;
bat as they always worked together, and on the

I, his works a

from his father's.

t^ painters who, without being precisely his sahol-
■n, bad asaembled from every part of Europe ts

180 MAXLY ITAIJAH PAJMTEB&.

profit by his instmotions.* The early morning and
the evening hour found him at his easel ; or linger*
ing in his little garden (where he had feasted with
Aretino and Sansovino, and Bembo and AriostOi
and '* the most gracious Virginia," and " the most
beautiful Yiolante"), and gazing on the setting
■on, with a thought perhaps of his own long and
bright career fietst hastening to its dose ; — not that
inch anticipations clouded his cheerful spirit,—
buoyant to the last ! In 1574, when he was in his
ninetj-seYenth year, Henry m. of France landed
at Venice on his way from Poland, and was mag-
nificently entertained by the Republic. On this
occasion the king visited Titian at his own house,
attended by a numerous suite of princes and nobles.
Titian entertained them with splendid hospitality ;
and when the king asked the price of some pictures
which pleased him, he presented them as a gift to
his majesty, and every one praised his easy and
noble manners and his generous bearing.

Two years more passed away, and the hand did
not yet tremble nor was the eye dim. When the
plague broke out in Venice, in 1576, the nature of
the distemper was at first mistaken, and the most
common precautions neglected; the contagion
spread, and Titian and his son were among those
who perished. Every one had fled, and before life

* It seems, however, generally admitted that Titian, either
kspatienoe or Jealousy, or both, was a very bad Instrootor in Idl

TITUH. 331

WU extinct Home niffiniia entered hia cbombet ajid
oarried off, bsfore liia eyea, hie mons;, jewels, and
tome of hia pictures. Uis death took place on ths
9tb of September, 1575. A kw hod beea made dar-
ing the plague tbat none abould be buried in tha
oburcbee, but tbut all tbe dead bodies should be cat-
iied beyond tbe pret^incta of tbe citj ; an esception,
however, even in that hour of terror and anguiith,
was made in favor of Titian. Uis remains wero
borne vith bonoT to tbe tmnb, and deposited in the
ohnrcb of Sunta Maria do' Frari, for whicb he bad
painted hia famous Assumption. Tbere be lies bo-
neatb a plain bluok marble Blab, on which ia simply
ituoribed

In the year 1794 the citizens of Venice resolved
to erect a noble and befitting monument to his
memory. Canova made tbe design ; — but tha
troubles nbioh intervened, and the e!:tinction of
the Kepublio, prevented tbe execution of tbia
project. CanoTft's magnificent model was appro-
priated to another purpose, and now forms thfl
cenotaph of tbe Arcbducbess Christina, in the
church of the Augustincs at Vienna.

Tbis was tbe life and death of tbe famous Titian.
lie waa preeminently tha painter of nature ; but to
hiro nature was clothed in a perpetual garb of
^eauty, or rather to him nature and beauty wero
gne In historical compositions and sacred eulijeatl

BS2 UltLY ITALUV FAESTEBB.

be iiuB been riTstlsd and Buipasaed, but ae a p(]»
trait ]>iunt«r never ; and his portraita of celebrated
persons liave at once the trulti and the dignitj of
history. It would be in ruin to attempt to gin
anj npcoant of bis works : oumerous as ttiey im,
not all that sre attribuUnl tu him in v&riuus gal-
loriee are bis. Many are by Puliaa, Boaifaiio, and
others bis cootemporaries, who imitated hia mannn
with more or leas euccen. As almost every gallery
in Europe, public and private, cantn'tiit picture!
ftttrihuted to bim, we shall not attempt to Ann-
merate even the acknowledged chefs d'auere. It
will be iDtereBting, howerer, to give some at^iwont
of those of his works caotained in our natioaaJ and
royal galliwiea. In our National Gallery there are
five, of which the Bat-chus and Ariadne, the Venus
and Adonis, and the Ganymede, are fair example!
of his power in the poetical department of his art.
But we want one of his ineetimable portraits. In
the gallery at Hampton Court there are savea or
eight pictures attributed to him, nioet of tbem in
a miserably ruined condition. The finest of theM
is a portrait of a man in black, with a wlilte ^irt
■Ben above bb veet up to Ijis throat ; in his right
band a red book, hie fure-finger between the leaves.
It is culled in the old catalogues Aleesandro de'
Uedioi, and has been engraved under the sams
of Boocaccio ; * hut it has no pretensions to eitho

* TbP «iiEra^nff, irhlub 1b moit tclndrablB, wu extcQUd by Qtw

TtniB. 333

ouaA It IB a wonderful piece of life. There ii
klfio a lovelj figure of a ataDding Lucretiu, about
half life-siio, with TOTj little drapery — not ut all
ohanioteriHtic of the modest Luoretia, who arrnnged
her robes that ehe might fall with decorum, Sho
holds with her left hand a, rod veil over her face,
ftnd in the right a dagger with which ehe is about
to Btah herself. This iiicture belonged to Charlei
I., nnd came to England with the Mantua Gallery,
in 1G29 ; it was sold in 1650, after the king's
death, for two hundred pounds (a large price fo?
ihe time), and afterwards restored. In the colleo-
tion nt Windsor there are the portrails of Titian
and Andrea Francesuhiui, half-length, in the same
picture. FrancBBchini was Chancellor of the B»-
public, and diBtinguiahed for his literary attain-
monCa ; he is Been in front in a robe of crimson
(the habit of a caraliero of St. Mark), and holds a
paper in his hand. The uoute and refined featuret
have that expression of mental power which Titian,
without any apparent efibrt, could throw into a
head. The fine old &ce and flowing beard of Titian
appear behind. This picture belonged to Charlei
I., and was sold after his death for one hundred
and twelve pounds ; it has been called in various
catalogues Titian and Aretino, which is an ohviouB
LUBtakc. The well-known portraits of Arotiao

•C ■ gmt cslLFCUr Dt thst lime, named Tu Eernit ) from wbaa
ttiE lUUi of IIiillaDd pnrchued It with HTenl otl»n, ud pr^
teMd IhetB to Cbula L

BIM

CABXI lUUAN PAIHTERS.

bkTa uO a full beard and thick lips, a phyitog-
nomj quite diBtinct ^m that of the Venetiiui aen-
ftlor in thia picture, which is identical with ths
•DgraTed portnxit^of FraQC««chiDi.

In tbe LouTre there are tweotj-two pietnrea bj
Titian ; in the Vienna GaUety, fifly-two, Th«
Uadrtd Gallerj contains most of the fino {tidtuna
pointed for Cbarlee V. and Philip 11.

Before wo quit tlie Bubject of Titian, we m&j
remark tijat a collection of hia engmTed portraits
would form n cumpleta historical galler;, illuetra-
Uya of the times in which he lived. Not only waa
hie art at the eervice of princes and their favorite
Iraautiee, but it was ever read; to ifflmortaliie the
featureH of thoee who were the objects of his own
affection and admiration. Unfortunatelj, it waa
not his cuBtom t« inscribe on tbe canvas tha natnee
of those who sat to him. Manj of the most glori-
one heads he ever painted remain to this hour un-
known. Amid aU their reality (and nothing in
painting ever eo conveyed the idea of a prGseQce)i
they hare a particular dignity which etrikea ne
with reireot ; we would fain interrogftte them,
but tbcy look at us life-like, grandly, calmly, liko
beings of anotlicr world ; they eeem to reoognise us
and we can never recognize them. Only we feel
the certainty that just as they now look, so they
lived and looked in long prist times. Such a po^
trait is that in the Hampton Court gallery ; that

I

I

gnve, dork iiia.ii, — in figure and attitude so tran-
qail, BO con l«m pill tire, but in hia ejee and on bis
lips a revektiun of feeling and eloquenca. And
Buub b picture is tliut of the ladj in the Sciam
Palace at Borne, called expressirely " Titian's Bella
Donnft." It liaa no oilier name, but no one ovot
looked at it without the nish to canj it away ; and
no anonymous portrait has ever been so multiplied
bj copiee. But, leaving these, ve will eubjoin here
a Bhort list of those grcnt and celebrated person-
ages who are known to have sat to Titian, and
whose portraits remain to ns, a precious legacy,
and forming the truest commentary on their lives,
deeds, and works.

Charles V. : Titian painted this Emperor sererol
timee, with and without hia armor. He has always
a grave, even melancholy eipression ; very short
hair and beard ; a large, square brow ; and the full
lips and projecting under-jaw, which became a da-
Ibrmity in his descendante.

His wife, the Emprces Isabella, holding dowers In
her hand.

Philip n, ; like his father, but uglier, mora mel-
ancholy, leaa intellectual. TIio Duke of Devonshire
has a fine full-length, in rich armor. There is a very
good one at Florence in the Pitti Palace i and another
at Madrid. In the Fitzwilliam Museum, at Cam-
bridge, is the picture culled " Philip II. and the Prin-
■ass Eboli,'' of which there are several repetitiona.

BS6 BARLT ITALUN PAINTKBS.

Fhuiott I. : half-length, in profile ; now in tli«i
LcRiTTe. Titian did not paint this king from natnxey
tat from a medal which was sent to him to copy.

The Emperor Ferdinand I.

The Emperor Rudolph 11.

The Saltan Solyman 11. His wife Bozana. These
aie engraved after Titian, bat firom what originals
we know not. They cannot be firom nature.

The Popes Jalias U. (doubtful), dement YII.,
Pauil m., and Paul IV.

All the Doges of Venice of his time.

Francesco, Duke of Urbino, and his Duchess Me
onora ; two wonderful portraits, now in the Florenoe
Gallery.

The Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici ; in the LouTie,
and in the Pitti Pahice.

The Constable de Bourbon.

The &mou8 and cruel Duke of Alva

Andrea Doria, Doge of Genoa.

Ferdinand Leyra, who commanded at Ihe battls
of Pavia.

Alphonso d'Avalos, in the Louvre.

Ii9abella d^Este, Marchioness of Mantua.

Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, and his first wife,
Lucrezia Borgia. In the Dresden Gallery there is
a picture by Titian, in which Alphonso is present*
bug his wife Lucrezia to the Madonna.

Csesar Borgia.

Catherine Comaro, Queen of Cyprus.

TITUV. SST

The Foot Aiiosto : In the Maufrini Talaca, at

Bernardo TasBO.

Cardinal Bembo. Cardinal Sforxa. Cardiiul
Fameae.

Count Costiglione.

Pietro Aretino : aeveral tunee ; the GncEt is at
norence ; another at Munich. The engravings, h;
Bonaaone, of Aretino and Cardinal Bembo, rank
mmong the moat exquisite works of art. There aia
impreesionB of both in the British Museum.

Sansovina, the famous Venetian architect.

The Cornnro famil; : in tiie possession of the Dokc
of Northumberland.

Ftacastaro, a fatnoas latin poet.

Irene da Spilemhorgo, a young girl who had di«-
tinguished herself as ii musician, a poetess, aod to
■whom Titian hiioaelf had given lossona in painting.
She died at the age of eightoen.

Andrea Teaalio, who has been called the fathat
of anatomical science — the particular friend of
Titian, and his instructor in anatomy, lie wal
Mousad falsely of having put a man to de;ith for
anatomical purposes, and condemned. Philip IT.,
unwilling to sacriGce so accompliehed a man to
mere popular prejudice, commuted his punishment
to a forced pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Ha
obeyed the sentence ; but on his return he woa
wrecked on the island of Zante, and died there of
Ewnger in 1564. This magnificant portrait, whioh

\

888 SABLT ITALIAir PAINTIBS.

Titian seems to hare painted with enthosiaBiiiy is in
the Pitti Palace at Florence.

Titian painted several portraits of himself, bat
none which represent him young. In the fine por-
trait at Florence he is about fif)y ; and in the other
known representations he is an old man, with an
Aquiline nose, and long, flowing beard. Of his
daughter Lavinia there are many portraits. She
was her Other's favorite model, being very beau-
tiful in face and form. In a famous pictore, now
at Berlin, she is represented lifting with both hands
a dish filled with fruits. There are four repetitions
of this subject : in one the fruits are changed into
a casket of jewels ; in another she beeomes the
daughter of Herodias, and the dish bears the head
of John the Baptist. All are striking, graoefolt
full of animation.

The only exalted personage of his time and coun-
try whom Titian did not paint was Cosmo I., Grand
Duke of Florence. In passing through Florence, in
1548, Titian requested the honor of painting tiie
Grand Duke. The offer was declined. It is worthy
of remark that Titian had painted, many years be-
fore, the father of Cosmo, Giovanni de' Medici, the
fiunous captain of the Bande Nari,

VENETIAN PAINTERS OF THB
SIXTEENTH CENTURr.

n^rrOKBTTO PAUL rEOOHESB — JACOFO BASSANO.

Titian was the lost great name of the eorlior

•ohools of Italj — the last reallj greal paintet
wbtob ahe produced. After him came manjwho
ware good artiatB, Bxcellent artificcra ; but, coni'
pored with the hearen-endowed creutora in aj-t,
tbe poet-paintera wlio bad gonii boforo tliom, tbqr
ware mera mechanics, the best of tbcm. No more
Baphaela, no more TitisinB, no more Micliacl Ange-
lOB, before whom princes stood UDCOverod ! but yerj
good pninterB, bearing the same relation to tbeii
wondrous prodeceaBora that tlio poets, \si\a, and
[^jwtigbts, of Qaeen Anne's time, bore to Shak'
apearo. Tiiera waa, howeTer, an intervening period
batween the death of Titian and the foundation of
tbe CoTikcci acbool, a sort of interregnum, during
wbich the art of painting sank to tbe luwcut depth!
of btbored inanity and inSated mannerism. In the
Biid-Ue of the sixteenth century Italy swanned with
|Nun(ei8. These go under the general name of tht
wiiuuritff, because they all imitated the manner of
(339)

S40 XABLT ITALIAF PAINTKB8.

•ome one of the great mastere who had gone befcN
them. There were imitators of Michael Angelo,
of Raphael, of Gorreggio : — Yaaari and Bronzino,
at Florence ; the two brothers Taddeo and Federigo
Zuccaro, and the Cavalier d'Arpino, at Rome;
Feder^'go Barroccio, of Urbino ; Luca Cambiasi, of
Genoa ; and hundreds of others, who coyered with
frescoes the walls of yillas, palaces, churches, and
produced some fine and valuable pictures, and
many pleasing and graceful ones, and many more
that were mere vapid or exaggerated repetitions of
worn-out subjects. And patrons were not wanting,
nor industry, nor science ; nothing but original ard
elevated feeling, — ** the inspiration and the poet'f
dream."

But in the Venetian school still survived this in-
spiration, this vital and creative power, when ik
seemed extinct everywhere besides. From 1540 to
1590 the Venetians were the only painters worthy
the name in Italy. This arose from the elementary
principle early infused into the Venetian artists, —
the principle of looking to Nature, and imitating
her, instead of imitating others and one another.
Thus, as every man who looks to Nature looks at
her through his own eyes, a certain degree of indi-
viduality was retained even in the decline of the
art. There were some who tried to look at Nature
in the same point of view as Titian, and these are
generally included under the general denominatioa

■f ilie Scliool of litian, though in fact Iia had no
tduol proferlj bo called.

MosoNB was a portrait painter wiio in aome of
bia heads equnlled Titian. We have in England
only one known picture by him, but it is a tnaetei-
pieca, — the portrait of a Jesuit, in the gallery of
the Dake of Sutherland, which far a lung timo
went by the name of Titian's Schoolmaster. It
repreeenta a grave, acute-looking man, liolding a
book in hia band, wliich he hae just closed ; hla
finger la between the leaves, and, leaning from hk
ebiur, he Beema about to address you.

Audn

uoakad b^ u

BoNiTAZio, who had studied under Pnlma and
ntian, painted many pictures whiob are fr»-
qnently attributed to both these masters. Superior

»to Bonifazio was Alessandro Bo.vvicino, by whom
thars ore soTeral exquisite pictures in tho Milan
Gallery.

Amdbea ScBiAToyE, whose elegant pictuies bx»
often met with in cotlections, was u pour l>oy, who
b^an the world as an assistant niosoii and bouB»>
painter, and who became an artist from tlie love of
•it ; hut by some fatality, or some quality of mind
which we are wont to call a. fatality, he remained
llwajs poor. He painted numerous pictoreo

142 EABJ.T tTAllAN VAtNTKU.

(rhieh oilier* obtained, »iid eold ognin for bigh
pric«s, enriching themselves at the exponee of bia
toil or haoil aai head. At lengtb he died, and in
nteh wretohed circomstances that be was baried
bj the charitj of a few rfieode. In general the
Venetian painters vrere jojaua beings ; Scbiavone
naa & rare and melivncholy exception. Very diffar
«nt was the tempei and the fate of Paris Bordone,
of Trerieo, a man without much genius, vreok in
drawing, capricious or commonplace io invoition,
vithout fire or eipresBion, but a dirine culorist, and
■tamping on tiis pictures hia own buojfant, lifo-
enjo^ing nature i in this he was like Titian, but
uttei'lj inferior in all other respects. Some of hia
portraits are very beautiful, particuliulj those of
bis women, which haie been often mistaken for
Tition's.

The elder Pauu is also oonsidered as a Bcholnt
of Titian, though deriving as little from his per-
•onal instruction as did Tintoretto, Bordone, and
others of the school. The date of his birtb bas been
rendered uncertain bj the mistakes of various
authors, nbo confounded the eld^r and the younger
Palma; but it apf ears that bewaabom between
ISOO and 1515. He resembled in hia manner bath
Titian and OiorgioDS. In some pictures he has
■hown the dignitj of Titian, in others a touch of
the melanchot; sentiment of Giorgione. But not
half the picturoa attributed to Palma Vecchio an
by him WebarenotonsinourlvationalGaUeiy

r

DirroaKTTO. 348

tbOM at nampton Court which are iittrihuted
to him are not geauine — mere third-rate pictures
of the Vsnetian schoal. This painter hiu! thres
daugbten of remarkable beauty. Vioknte, tha
ddeat and most beautiful, ie said to have boon
loved bj Titian, and bi be the original of some of
bis most exquisite female portraits. One called
Flora, because she haa flowera in ber hand ; and
another in the Pltti Palace, in a rich dress. Wa
have the three daughters of Pulma, painted b; him-
»elf, in the Vienna Gallery; one, a nwat lovely
moature, with long light brown hair, and a riolat
in her bosom, is without doubt Titian's Violanta.
In the Dresden Gallery are the same three beautifhl
girls in one piijture, the head in the centra being
the Tiolante.

It remains to give some account of two really
great men, who were contemporaries of Titian, but
eonld hardly be collod his rivals, his equals, or hia
imitators. They were both inferior to him, but
original men ia their different styles.

The firat was Tiktoretto, bom in 1512 ; hia real
name was Jacopo Robusti. Hia father was a dyer
(in Italian, Tintore) ; henee be received in childhood
the diminutive nicliname tl Ti-tloretlo, by which ha
is best tnown to us. He began, like many other
I puinters whose genius we have recorded, by draw-
I [ng all binds of objects and figures on the walls of
B house. The dyer, being a man of BeoRS,

844 EAKLY TTALIAM tAlmSSB

did not attempt to oppose his son's prcdilectioa For
krt, but procured for him the beet iiiBtruction hii
meana would allow, and eYea sent him to study
nnder Titian. This did not aftvil him much, fat
Uiat uo«t oiuelleot paiater was bj no m^ns a good
ioBtructor, and it ia eaid ttat ha became jealuua of
tlie progreM of Tintoretto, or peibapa required
more dooilitj. Whatever might be tbo cause, he
•xpelled him from his Oicademj, sajing, eamewhat
nublj, that "he would never be anything but a
dauber." Tiotoretto did not loco courage ; ho pui-
ned hia Btudiee, and after a few jears set np an
academy of hia own, and on the wall of his paiot-
ing-room he placed the following inscription, as
being exprewive of the principles he intended to
fcliow : " Jl disei/no di Midtatl Agnolo : il cohrilo
£ Tixiano " (the drawing of Michael Angelo, and
the coloring of Titian). Tintoretto was a man of
ftitraordinarj talent, unequalled for the quiokDeea
of bis invention and the facility and rapidity of hia
execution. It frequently happened that be would
not give liimself the trouble to make any design or
sketch for his picture, but composed as he went
along, throwing his figures on the canvas and point-
ii)g them in at once, with wonderful power and
truth, considering the little time and paina they
eost him. But this want of study wa« latal to hie
real greatness. Uo ia the most unequal of painters.
In his compositions we find oflen the groaseal
fftults in close proximity with the btgheet. beauty

nKTOK£TTO,

Sib

I

^ow he would paint b. picture almost equal ta
litiau ; theu produce one eo coarse and corelcaa
that it seemed to justify Titian's eipreasion of a
"dauber." He abused his mechanical power by
tha utmost recklessness of pencil ; but tbon, again,
his woDderful talent redeemed him, and he would
enchant his fellow-citizons by the grandeur, the
dramatic vivacity, the gorgeous colors, and the
luxuriant invention, displayed in some of bis vast
oompositions. The larger the spa<:e he had to £11,
the mure he seemed at home ; his small pictures are
seldom guod. His portraits in general ore mag
niScent ; less refined and dignified than those of
Titian, lees intellectual, but quite as full of life.

Tintoretto painted uo amazing number of pio-
turoB, and of an amaziug slie, — one of them is
Baventy-four feet in length and thirty feet in
height. One edifice of bis native city, the school
of St. Boch, contains fifty-seven large compositions,
each containing many figures the sixe of life.
The two most famous of his pictures are, a Cruci-
fixion, in which the Passion of our Saviour is
represented like a vast theatrical seena, crowded
with groups of figures on foot, on horsebacli, es-
hibiting the greatest variety of movement and ex
preseion ; and a large picture, called tbe Miracle
of St. Marit, in the Academy of Venice, of which
Ur. Rogers poeseeses the Urst slcetch ; a certain
(Uave having become a Christian, and having peiw
■evered in paying ills devotioas at tiie slirioe of St

I
I

IMO EAKLI ITALUN

Uark, IS condeamed to the torture bj his heathen
lord ; but just aa be ia boand and proati'ate, St.
Murk deecends &am above to aid his votary ; tbe
executioaei ia seen raiaiDg the broken inHtrumetita
ef torture, and a crowd of people look on in vari-
ous attitudes of trouder, p'ty, interest. The whola
picture glows with color And movement.

Incur NationiLl GallsTj ws bava oalj one small,
unimportant work by I'intorctto, but thora are ton
or eleven in the Rojal Galleries. lie was a, favor-
ite paintor of Charles I., who purchased manj of
his works from Venice. Two pictures, once reuiJj
fine, which belonged to this king, are now at
Dompton Court, — Esther dinting before AhofiU-
eruB, and the Nine Sloses. They have suSered tei^
riblj from audaciouB lestorora ; but in this last
picture the figure of tba Muse on the right, turning
her bauk, is in a grand style, not unworthy, in its
large, bold, yet graceful dran-ing, of the bond of
Michiiel Angela bimself. In tbe same collection
are three very fine portraits.

Tintoretto died in ldS8. His daughter, Muriettt
Itohneti, whow tuleot for painting was sedulously
cultivated by ber father, has left soma aieellent
portraits ; and in ber own time obtained auch celeb-
rity that the Kings of France and Spain invited
her to their courts with the most tempting offorBof
patronage, but she would never leave her fiithai
and ber native Venice. Sbe died at the ag» of
thirty.

PAUL TEB0NE9E. 847

Paul Cajliari of Yerona, better known as Paul
VeronoBB, waa bom in that city in 1530, tho son
of a sculptor, who tauglit him early to draw and
to modal ; but the genius of the pupil was so dia-
metrically opposed to tbis style of art, tliat be aoon
quitted tba studio of his father for thtitof his uncla
Antonio Badile, a very good painter, from whom
he learned tbat florid grace in composition vbiuh
he aflervcardii carried out in a manner so consum-
inata and so cbaracterlstlc. At tbat time Verona,
like all the other cities of Italy, could boast of a
crowd of painters ; and Paul Cagliori, finding thai
he could not stand against so many competitors,
repaired to Venice, where he remained fi>r some
time, studying the worka of Titian and Tintoretti,
but without attracting much attention himself, till
he had painted, in the church of St. Sebastian, the
history of Esther. This was a subject well cal-
culated to call forth his particular talent in depict-
ing tho gay ; the sumptuous accessories of courtly
pomp, banquet scenes, processions, &,c, ; and from
this time he was continually employed by the
Bpiendor-loving citizens of Venice, who delighted in
bis luxuriant magnificence, and OTerlooked, or per-
baps did not perceive, his thousand sins against
fact, probability, costume, time, and placn. We
Ate obliged to do the same thing in these days, if
ve would duly appreciate the works of this aston-
Uhing painter. We must shut our eyes to the via.
Ifttioa of all proprieties of chronology and costume,

348 KIBLT ITALLUI FAUTCBBS.

•nd an onlf tho aboDnding life, the vontlronl
variflf.; of dignified and eiprewiiTe figures L-rowded
into hia iCBitea, — we may a little mar?el Iiow the^
got there, — nod the prodigality of light and colon
all harmunued by » inellunnces of tone which reo-
dera tliein nioBt uttraftive to the eja. To give an
idea of Paul VeroDesa'a manner of treating a subject,
vre wil! lata one of hia fineat and moat character-
iatio piuturea, the Marriage of Cana, ithich was
[Minted fur the Refectorj of the Convent of San
Oiorgio at Venice, and ia now in the LouTre. It ii
not leaa than thirtj feet long and twenty feat high,
tnd containa about one hundred and thirty liguree,
life-size. The Marriage Feoat of the GatitetLn citi-
len 18 represented with a pocop worthy of" Ormm
cr of Ltd : " a aumptuous hall of ths richest archi-
(Kture; lofty columns, long linea of marble balus-
tiadflS rising against the ekj; a crowd of guests
jplendidly attired, aoma wearing orders of knight-
hood, are acatad at tablea covered with gorgeooa
rases of gold and ailver, attended by elavce, jeetoTa,
pages, and muuciana. In the midst of all this
daiizling pomp, this display of festive enjoyment,
these moving ligurea, these lavish colors in glowing
approximation, we begin after awhile to distia-
guish tliB principal personages, — our Savioi)^, the
Virgin Mary, the Twelve Apostles, mingled with
Venetian senatora, and ladiaa clothed in the rich
eoatnme of the sixteenth century, — monks, friars,
pacta utists, all portraits of peraonagee esiating

r

PAUL TEROMEaS. 849

n liis own time ; nhile in a group of n
liaa intioduced himself and Tintoretto playing the
violoncelli), while Titiun plays the buss. The brida
m thia picture is said to ba the portrait of Eleanor
of Austria, the eistet of Charles V.,aQd second wife
of Francie I., of whom there is a most beautiful
portrait at llamptou Cuart. There is a series of
thees Scriptural banquet-scenes, painted hj Paul
Terouese, bU in the some extroordinorj stjla, but
varied with the utmost richness of fancy, invention,
and coloring. Christ entertained by Levi, now in
the Academy of Venice ; the Supper in the hous«
of Simon the Pharisee, with Mary Magdalen at the
feet of OUT Saviour, now in the Durozzo Palace at
Genoa, of wliich the first sketch, a magnificent piece
of color, is in the poBsession of Mr. Rogers ; and the
Supper at Emmaus, in which he has introduced hia
wife and others of his family ae spectators.

Paul Veronese died in 1588. He was a man of
amiable manners, of a liberal, generous spirit, and
QxCremelj pious. When he painted for churohea
and convents, he frequently accepted very small
prices, sometimes merely the value of his canvaa
and colore. For that stupendous picture in tne
Xjouvre, the Marriage of Cana, he received a<it
taore than forty pounds of our money.

ITe painted all eubjects, even the moat solemn, In
Ihe same gorgeous style. He had sons and rela-
tions who were educated in Lis atelier and asaieted
in painting bia great pictures, and who aHer hit

8oO KiSLi mi.

dekth oontinaod to out^ on a lort of naniifitctoiy
of [liotiiTes in the Bajiie magnificent oruomeDtaJ
Hyla ; but the; wore far inferior paioMre. and had
Dot, like him, tbe power of redeeming griiea fiiiilta
of judgment and tiute bj a virid imagiiuitioQ and
itrung lei'liiig of character.

jUmoBt all galleriee and coUactiona contuia speai-
meiiR uf the work* of tbie splendid and popular pain^
er ; but the finest ani in the chuTchee at Venice, in
the Louvre, and in the Dresden Galler;, where tb««
are fifteen of his picturaa.

In our National Gallery there h & fine picture of
tbe CoDsecraitioD of St. Nichol&a, Bishop of Mjm,
in 13^1. I'ha prbcipal personages are verf nubly
oonmived, and the foreshortened figure of the sjogel
descending above the kneeling saint, and holding
the mitre and croeier, explains the subject in a man-
aerat Dn<» very poetical andTerrintelligibte. The
little akotch of Europa is a study for the splendid
picture now at Vienna.

Before we close the list of the elder paintera of
Italy, we must mention oh flourishing at this tinw
theDaPonteromilyofBussano. GiocomoduPonte,
called Old Boarano, was the head of it. Ilis rnlhw
had been a painter before him, and he, with hii
fonr sons, Leandro, Francesco, Gion Battiata, and
Giroliuno, set up in their native town of Baasnno a
kind of manufactory of pictoree, which were sold ia
the Saira and markete of (he neighboring cities, and
btminapopularsiloTeT thenortfaofllaly. TbeBo*

3AC0FO BAESANO,

861

ft

luii were among the earliest pninterB of Clie ff^nn
■tjle ; the; treated EBcred and solemn Hubjecte in a
homely, fdzniliar manner, wliiuh wua pleaBiug and
intelligible ta the people, and, at the eame time,
with B power of imitation, a light and spirited exe-
cution, and in particuiur a gem-like radiance of
eolor which iasoinates even judgw of art. There
ore pictures of the elder Bassano which at the first
ghtnca remind one of a handful of rubies and emer-
alds. Ilia beat and largest works are at Bassano ; Ilia
small pictures are uumecoue, and scattered through
moel: galleriea. He painted sheep, cattle, and poul-
try well, and was fond of introducing them in the
pastoral sconee of the Old Testament, where thej
are appropriate. Sometimes, unhappily, where they
are least appropriate they are the principal object*.
His scenery and grouping hare a rural character ;
and his personages, even sacred and heroic, look
like peaaantfl. They nte not Tulgar, but rustic
The same kind of spirit informed the Bassani that
aherwardfl informed the Dutch school — the imita-
tion of familiar objects without elevation and with-
out selection ; but the nature of Italy was aa diffeis
ant from that of Holland asBassano iadiSerent from
Jan Steen. LikeaU the Yen e tin ns, the Baasani were
good portrait painters. We have a fine portrait 1^
Jncopo Bassnno in our National Gallery, and at
Hampton Court several very fine ond characteristic
pictures, which wiU give an excellent idea of his
general manner. The best are Jacob's Journey and

852 XABLT IXAIJAN PAniTIB8.

the Deluge. Mr. Rogers poe ooMoa the two best
pictures of this artist now in England ; thej are
small, bat most beautifol, Tivid as gems in point of
oolor, with more dignity and feeling than is usual.
The subjects are, the €k>od Samaritan, and Lazarus
at the door of the Rich Man. Nothing could tempt
Bassano from the little native town where he flour-
ished, grew rich, and brought up a numerous fisunily .
He died in 1592.

All these men had original genius and that indi-
viduality of character which lends a vital interest
to all productions of art, whether the style be ele-
vated and ideal or confined to the imitation of com-
mon nature ; but to them succeeded a race of man*
waists and imitators, so that about the dose of the
sixteenth century all originality seemed extinguished
at Venice, as well as everywhere else. And here ws
elose the history of the earlier painters of Italy.

? c

Is- 9.

]

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