Chapter XXVII: Influence of Venetian Art (2)

Yet Titian became neither soured nor a pessimist. Many of his late portraits are even more energetic than those of his early maturity. He shows himself a wise man of the world. "Do not be a grovelling sycophant," some of them seem to say, "but remember that courtly manners and tempered elegance can do you no harm." Titian, then, was ever ready to change with the times, and on the whole the change was toward a firmer grasp of reality, necessitating yet another advance in the painter's mastery of his craft. Titian's real greatness consists in the fact that he was as able to produce an effect of greater reality as he was ready to appreciate the need of a firmer hold on life. In painting, as I have said, a greater effect of reality is chiefly a matter of light and shadow, to be obtained only by considering the canvas as an enclosed space, filled with light and air, through which the objects are seen. There is more than one way of getting this effect, but Titian attains it by the almost total suppression of outlines, by the harmonising of his colours, and by the largeness and vigour of his brushwork. In fact, the old Titian was, in his way of painting, remarkably like some of the best French masters of to-day. This makes him only the more attractive, particularly when with handling of this kind he combined the power of creating forms of beauty such as he has given us in the "Wisdom" of the Venetian Royal Palace, or in the "Shepherd and Nymph" of Vienna. The difference between the old Titian, author of these works, and the young Titian, painter of the "Assumption," and of the "Bacchus and Ariadne," is the difference between the Shakspeare of the "Midsummer-Night's Dream" and the Shakspeare of the "Tempest." Titian and Shakspeare begin and end so much in the same way by no mere accident. They were both products of the Renaissance, they underwent similar changes, and each was the highest and completest expression of his own age. This is not the place to elaborate the comparison, but I have dwelt so long on Titian, because, historically considered, he is the only painter who expressed nearly all of the Renaissance that could find expression in painting. It is this which makes him even more interesting than Tintoretto, an artist who in many ways was deeper, finer, and even more brilliant.

=XIV. Humanity and the Renaissance.=--Tintoretto grew to manhood when the fruit of the Renaissance was ripe on every bough. The Renaissance had resulted in the emancipation of the individual, in making him feel that the universe had no other purpose than his happiness. This brought an entirely new answer to the question, "Why should I do this or that?" It used to be, "Because self-instituted authority commands you." The answer now was, "Because it is good for men." In this lies our greatest debt to the Renaissance, that it instituted the welfare of man as the end of all action. The Renaissance did not bring this idea to practical issue, but our debt to it is endless on account of the results the idea has produced in our own days. This alone would have made the Renaissance a period of peculiar interest, even if it had had no art whatever. But when ideas are fresh and strong, they are almost sure to find artistic embodiment, as indeed this whole epoch found in painting, and this particular period in the works of Tintoretto.

=XV. Sebastiano del Piombo.=--The emancipation of the individual had a direct effect on the painter in freeing him from his guild. It now occurred to him that possibly he might become more proficient and have greater success if he deserted the influences he was under by the accident of birth and residence, and placed himself in the school that seemed best adapted to foster his talents. This led to the unfortunate experiment of Eclecticism which checked the purely organic development of the separate schools. It brought about their fusion into an art which no longer appealed to the Italian people, as did the art which sprang naturally from the soil, but to the small class of _dilettanti_ who considered a knowledge of art as one of the birthrights of their social position. Venice, however, suffered little from Eclecticism, perhaps because a strong sense of individuality was late in getting there, and by that time the painters were already well enough educated in their craft to know that they had little to learn elsewhere. The one Venetian who became an Eclectic, remained in spite of it a great painter. Sebastiano del Piombo fell under the influence of Michelangelo, but while this influence was pernicious in most cases, the hand that had learned to paint under Bellini, Cima, and Giorgione, never wholly lost its command of colour and tone.

=XVI. Tintoretto.=--Tintoretto stayed at home, but he felt in his own person a craving for something that Titian could not teach him. The Venice he was born in was not the Venice of Titian's early youth, and his own adolescence fell in the period when Spain was rapidly making herself mistress of Italy. The haunting sense of powers almost irresistible gave a terrible fascination to Michelangelo's works, which are swayed by that sense as by a demonic presence. Tintoretto felt this fascination because he was in sympathy with the spirit which took form in colossal torsoes and limbs. To him these were not, as they were to Michelangelo's enrolled followers, merely new patterns after which to model the nude.

But beside this sense of overwhelming power and gigantic force, Tintoretto had to an even greater degree the feeling that whatever existed was for mankind and with reference to man. In his youth people were once more turning to religion, and in Venice poetry was making its way more than it had previously done, not only because Venice had become the refuge of men of letters, but also because of the diffusion of printed books. Tintoretto took to the new feeling for religion and poetry as to his birthright. Yet whether classic fable or biblical episode were the subject of his art, Tintoretto coloured it with his feeling for the human life at the heart of the story. His sense of power did not express itself in colossal nudes so much as in the immense energy, in the glowing health of the figures he painted, and more still in his effects of light, which he rendered as if he had it in his hands to brighten or darken the heavens at will and subdue them to his own moods.

He could not have accomplished this, we may be sure, if he had not had even greater skill than Titian in the treatment of light and shadow and of atmosphere. It was this which enabled him to give such living versions of biblical stories and saintly legends. For, granting that an effect of reality were attainable in painting without an adequate treatment of light and atmosphere, even then, the reality would look hideous, as it does in many modern painters who attempt to paint people of to-day in their every-day dress and among their usual surroundings. It is not "Realism" which makes such pictures hideous, but the want of that toning down which the atmosphere gives to things in life, and of that harmonising to which the light subjects all colours.

It was a great mastery of light and shadow which enabled Tintoretto to put into his pictures all the poetry there was in his soul without once tempting us to think that he might have found better expression in words. The poetry which quickens most of his works in the Scuola di San Rocco is almost entirely a matter of light and colour. What is it but the light that changes the solitudes in which the Magdalen and St. Mary of Egypt are sitting, into dreamlands seen by poets in their moments of happiest inspiration? What but light and colour, the gloom and chill of evening, with the white-stoled figure standing resignedly before the judge, that give the "Christ before Pilate" its sublime magic? What, again, but light, colour, and the star-procession of cherubs that imbue the realism of the "Annunciation" with music which thrills us through and through?

Religion and poetry did not exist for Tintoretto because the love and cultivation of the Muses was a duty prescribed by the Greeks and Romans, and because the love of God and the saints was prescribed by the Church; but rather, as was the case with the best people of his time, because both poetry and religion were useful to man. They helped him to forget what was mean and sordid in life, they braced him to his task, and consoled him for his disappointments. Religion answered to an ever-living need of the human heart. The Bible was no longer a mere document wherewith to justify Christian dogma. It was rather a series of parables and symbols pointing at all times to the path that led to a finer and nobler life. Why then continue to picture Christ and the Apostles, the Patriarchs and Prophets, as persons living under Roman rule, wearing the Roman toga, and walking about in the landscape of a Roman bas-relief? Christ and the Apostles, the Patriarchs and Prophets, were the embodiment of living principles and of living ideals. Tintoretto felt this so vividly that he could not think of them otherwise than as people of his own kind, living under conditions easily intelligible to himself and to his fellow-men. Indeed, the more intelligible and the more familiar the look and garb and surroundings of biblical and saintly personages, the more would they drive home the principles and ideas they incarnated. So Tintoretto did not hesitate to turn every biblical episode into a picture of what the scene would look like had it taken place under his own eyes, nor to tinge it with his own mood.

His conception of the human form was, it is true, colossal, although the slender elegance that was then coming into fashion, as if in protest against physical force and organisation, influenced him considerably in his construction of the female figure; but the effect which he must always have produced upon his contemporaries, and which most of his works still produce, is one of astounding reality as well as of wide sweep and power. Thus, in the "Discovery of the Body of St. Mark," in the Brera, and in the "Storm Rising while the Corpse is being Carried through the Streets of Alexandria," in the Royal Palace at Venice, the figures, although colossal, are so energetic and so easy in movement, and the effects of perspective and of light and atmosphere are so on a level with the gigantic figures, that the eye at once adapts itself to the scale, and you feel as if you too partook of the strength and health of heroes.

=XVII. Value of Minor Episodes in Art.=--That feeling for reality which made the great painters look upon a picture as the representation of a cubic content of atmosphere enveloping all the objects depicted, made them also consider the fact that the given quantity of atmosphere is sure to contain other objects than those the artist wants for his purpose. He is free to leave them out, of course, but in so far as he does, so far is he from producing an effect of reality. The eye does not see everything, but all the eye would naturally see along with the principal objects, must be painted, or the picture will not look true to life. This incorporation of small episodes running parallel with the subject rather than forming part of it, is one of the chief characteristics of modern as distinguished from ancient art. It is this which makes the Elizabethan drama so different from the Greek. It is this again which already separates the works of Duccio and Giotto from the plastic arts of Antiquity. Painting lends itself willingly to the consideration of minor episodes, and for that reason is almost as well fitted to be in touch with modern life as the novel itself. Such a treatment saves a picture from looking prepared and cold, just as light and atmosphere save it from rigidity and crudeness.

No better illustration of this can be found among Italian masters than Tintoretto's "Crucifixion" in the Scuola di San Rocco. The scene is a vast one, and although Christ is on the Cross, life does not stop. To most of the people gathered there, what takes place is no more than a common execution. Many of them are attending to it as to a tedious duty. Others work away at some menial task more or less connected with the Crucifixion, as unconcerned as cobblers humming over their last. Most of the people in the huge canvas are represented, as no doubt they were in life, without much personal feeling about Christ. His own friends are painted with all their grief and despair, but the others are allowed to feel as they please. The painter does not try to give them the proper emotions. If one of the great novelists of to-day, if Tolstoi, for instance, were to describe the Crucifixion, his account would read as if it were a description of Tintoretto's picture. But Tintoretto's fairness went even further than letting all the spectators feel as they pleased about what he himself believed to be the greatest event that ever took place. Among this multitude he allowed the light of heaven to shine upon the wicked as well as upon the good, and the air to refresh them all equally. In other words, this enormous canvas is a great sea of air and light at the bottom of which the scene takes place. Without the atmosphere and the just distribution of light, it would look as lifeless and desolate, in spite of the crowd and animation, as if it were the bottom of a dried up sea.

=XVIII. Tintoretto's Portraits.=--While all these advances were being made, the art of portraiture had not stood still. Its popularity had only increased as the years went on. Titian was too busy with commissions for foreign princes to supply the great demand there was in Venice alone. Tintoretto painted portraits not only with much of the air of good breeding of Titian's likenesses, but with even greater splendour, and with an astonishing rapidity of execution. The Venetian portrait, it will be remembered, was expected to be more than a likeness. It was expected to give pleasure to the eye, and to stimulate the emotions. Tintoretto was ready to give ample satisfaction to all such expectations. His portraits, although they are not so individualised as Lotto's, nor such close studies of character as Titian's, always render the man at his best, in glowing health, full of life and determination. They give us the sensuous pleasure we get from jewels, and at the same time they make us look back with amazement to a State where the human plant was in such vigour as to produce old men of the kind represented in most of Tintoretto's portraits.

With Tintoretto ends the universal interest the Venetian school arouses; for although painting does not deteriorate in a day any more than it grows to maturity in the same brief moment, the story of the decay has none of the fascination of the growth. But several artists remain to be considered who were not of the Venetian school in the strict sense of the term, but who have always been included within it.

=XIX. Venetian Art and the Provinces.=--The Venetian provinces were held together not merely by force of rule. In language and feeling no less than in government, they formed a distinct unit within the Italian peninsula. Painting being so truly a product of the soil as it was in Italy during the Renaissance, the art of the provinces could not help holding the same close relation to the art of Venice that their language and modes of feeling held. But a difference must be made at once between towns like Verona, with a school of at least as long a growth and with as independent an evolution as the school of Venice itself, and towns like Vicenza and Brescia whose chief painters never developed quite independently of Venice or Verona. What makes Romanino and Moretto of Brescia, or even the powerful Montagna of Vicenza, except when they are at their very best, so much less enjoyable as a rule than the Venetians--that is to say the painters wholly educated in Venice,--is something they have in common with the Eclectics of a later day. They are ill at ease about their art, which is no longer the utterly unpremeditated outcome of a natural impulse. They saw greater painting than their own in Venice and Verona, and not unfrequently their own works show an uncouth attempt to adopt that greatness, which comes out in exaggeration of colour even more than of form, and speaks for that want of taste which is the indelible stamp of provincialism. But there were Venetian towns without the traditions even of the schools of Vicenza and Brescia, where, if you wanted to learn painting, you had to apprentice yourself to somebody who had been taught by somebody who had been a pupil of one of Giovanni Bellini's pupils. This was particularly true of the towns in that long stretch of plain between the Julian Alps and the sea, known as Friuli. Friuli produced one painter of remarkable talents and great force, Giovanni Antonio Pordenone, but neither his talents nor his force, nor even later study in Venice, could erase from his works that stamp of provincialism which he inherited from his first provincial master.

Such artists as these, however, never gained great favour in the capital. Those whom Venice drew to herself when her own strength was waning and when, like Rome in her decline, she began to absorb into herself the talent of the provinces, were rather painters such as Paolo Veronese whose art, although of independent growth, was sufficiently like her own to be readily understood, or painters with an entirely new vein, such as the Bassani.

=XX. Paul Veronese.=--Paolo was the product of four or five generations of Veronese painters, the first two or three of which had spoken the language of the whole mass of the people in a way that few other artists had ever done. Consequently, in the early Renaissance, there were no painters in the North of Italy, and few even in Florence, who were not touched by the influence of the Veronese. But Paolo's own immediate predecessors were no longer able to speak the language of the whole mass of the people. There was one class they left out entirely, the class to whom Titian and Tintoretto appealed so strongly, the class that ruled, and that thought in the new way. Verona, being a dependency of Venice, did no ruling, and certainly not at all so much thinking as Venice, and life there continued healthful, simple, unconscious, untroubled by the approaching storm in the world's feelings. But although thought and feeling may be slow in invading a town, fashion comes there quickly. Spanish fashions in dress, and Spanish ceremonial in manners reached Verona soon enough, and in Paolo Caliari we find all these fashions reflected, but health, simplicity, and unconsciousness as well. This combination of seemingly opposite qualities forms his great charm for us to-day, and it must have proved as great an attraction to many of the Venetians of his own time, for they were already far enough removed from simplicity to appreciate to the full his singularly happy combination of ceremony and splendour with an almost childlike naturalness of feeling. Perhaps among his strongest admirers were the very men who most appreciated Titian's distinction and Tintoretto's poetry. But it is curious to note that Paolo's chief employers were the monasteries. His cheerfulness, and his frank and joyous worldliness, the qualities, in short, which we find in his huge pictures of feasts, seem to have been particularly welcome to those who were expected to make their meat and drink of the very opposite qualities. This is no small comment on the times, and shows how thorough had been the permeation of the spirit of the Renaissance when even the religious orders gave up their pretence to asceticism and piety.

=XXI. Bassano, Genre, and Landscape.=--Venetian painting would not have been the complete expression of the riper Renaissance if it had entirely neglected the country. City people have a natural love of the country, but when it was a matter of doubt whether a man would ever return if he ventured out of the town-gates, as was the case in the Middle Ages, this love had no chance of showing itself. It had to wait until the country itself was safe for wayfarers, a state of things which came about in Italy with the gradual submission of the country to the rule of the neighbouring cities and with the general advance of civilisation. During the Renaissance the love of the country and its pleasures received an immense impulse from Latin authors. What the great Romans without exception recommended, an Italian was not slow to adopt, particularly when, as in this case, it harmonised with natural inclination and with an already common practice. It was the usual thing with those who could afford to do so to retire to the villa for a large part of the year. Classic poets helped such Italians to appreciate the simplicity of the country and to feel a little of its beauty. Many took such delight in country life that they wished to have reminders of it in town. It may have been in response to some such half formulated wish that Palma began to paint his "Sante Conversazioni,"--groups of saintly personages gathered under pleasant trees in pretty landscapes. His pupil, Bonifazio, continued the same line, gradually, however, discarding the traditional group of Madonna and saints, and, under such titles as "The Rich Man's Feast" or "The Finding of Moses," painting all the scenes of fashionable country life, music on the terrace of a villa, hunting parties, and picnics in the forest.

Bonifazio's pupil, Jacopo Bassano, no less fond of painting country scenes, did not however confine himself to representing city people in their parks. His pictures were for the inhabitants of the small market-town from which he takes his name, where inside the gates you still see men and women in rustic garb crouching over their many-coloured wares; and where, just outside the walls, you may see all the ordinary occupations connected with farming and grazing. Inspired, although unawares, by the new idea of giving perfectly modern versions of biblical stories, Bassano introduced into nearly every picture he painted episodes from the life in the streets of Bassano, and in the county just outside the gates. Even Orpheus in his hands becomes a farmer's lad fiddling to the barnyard fowls.

Bassano's pictures and those of his two sons, who followed him very closely, found great favour in Venice and elsewhere, because they were such unconscious renderings of simple country life, a kind of life whose charm seemed greater and greater the more fashionable and ceremonious private life in the city became. But this was far from being their only charm. Just as the Church had educated people to understand painting as a language, so the love of all the pleasant things that painting suggested led in time to the love of this art as its own end, serving no obvious purpose either of decoration or suggestion, but giving pleasure by the skilful management of light and shadow, and by the intrinsic beauty of the colours. The third quarter of the sixteenth century thus saw the rise of the picture-fancier, and the success of the Bassani was so great because they appealed to this class in a special way. In Venice there had long been a love of objects for their sensuous beauty. At an early date the Venetians had perfected an art in which there is scarcely any intellectual content whatever, and in which colour, jewel-like or opaline, is almost everything. Venetian glass was at the same time an outcome of the Venetians' love of sensuous beauty and a continual stimulant to it. Pope Paul II., for example, who was a Venetian, took such a delight in the colour and glow of jewels, that he was always looking at them and always handling them. When painting, accordingly, had reached the point where it was no longer dependent upon the Church, nor even expected to be decorative, but when it was used purely for pleasure, the day could not be far distant when people would expect painting to give them the same enjoyment they received from jewels and glass. In Bassano's works this taste found full satisfaction. Most of his pictures seem at first as dazzling, then as cooling and soothing, as the best kind of stained glass; while the colouring of details, particularly of those under high lights, is jewel-like, as clear and deep and satisfying as rubies and emeralds.

It need scarcely be added after all that has been said about light and atmosphere in connection with Titian and Tintoretto, and their handling of real life, that Bassano's treatment of both was even more masterly. If this were not so, neither picture-fanciers of his own time, nor we nowadays, should care for his works as we do. They represent life in far more humble phases than even the pictures of Tintoretto, and, without recompensing effects of light and atmosphere, they would not be more enjoyable than the cheap work of the smaller Dutch masters. It must be added, too, that without his jewel-like colouring, Bassano would often be no more delightful than Teniers.

Another thing Bassano could not fail to do, working as he did in the country, and for country people, was to paint landscape. He had to paint the real country, and his skill in the treatment of light and atmosphere was great enough to enable him to do it well. Bassano was in fact the first modern landscape painter. Titian and Tintoretto and Giorgione, and even Bellini and Cima before them, had painted beautiful landscapes, but they were seldom direct studies from nature. They were decorative backgrounds, or fine harmonising accompaniments to the religious or human elements of the picture. They never failed to get grand and effective lines--a setting worthy of the subject. Bassano did not need such setting for his country versions of Bible stories, and he needed them even less in his studies of rural life. For pictures of this kind the country itself naturally seemed the best background and the best accompaniment possible,--indeed, the only kind desirable. Without knowing it, therefore, and without intending it, Bassano was the first Italian who tried to paint the country as it really is, and not arranged to look like scenery.

=XXII. The Venetians and Velasquez.=--Had Bassano's qualities, however, been of the kind that appealed only to the collectors of his time, he would scarcely rouse the strong interest we take in him. We care for him chiefly because he has so many of the more essential qualities of great art--truth to life, and spontaneity. He has another interest still, in that he began to beat out the path which ended at last in Velasquez. Indeed, one of the attractions of the Venetian school of painting is that, more than all others, it went to form that great Spanish master. He began as a sort of follower of Bassano, but his style was not fixed before he had given years of study to Veronese, to Tintoretto, and to Titian.

=XXIII. Decline of Venetian Art.=--Bassano appealed to collectors by mere accident. He certainly did not work for them. The painters who came after him and after Tintoretto no longer worked unconsciously, as Veronese did, nor for the whole intelligent class, as Titian and Tintoretto had done, but for people who prided themselves on their connoisseurship.

Palma the Younger and Domenico Tintoretto began well enough as natural followers of Tintoretto, but before long they became aware of their inferiority to the masters who had preceded them, and, feeling no longer the strength to go beyond them, fell back upon painting variations of those pictures of Tintoretto and Titian which had proved most popular. So their works recall the great masters, but only to bring out their own weakness. Padovanino, Liberi, and Pietro della Vecchia went even lower down and shamelessly manufactured pictures which, in the distant markets for which they were intended, passed for works of Titian, Veronese, and Giorgione. Nor are these pictures altogether unenjoyable. There are airs by the great composers we so love that we enjoy them even when woven into the compositions of some third-rate master.

=XXIV. Longhi.=--But Venetian painting was not destined to die unnoticed. In the eighteenth century, before the Republic entirely disappeared, Venice produced three or four painters who deserve at the least a place with the best painters of that century. The constitution of the Venetian State had remained unchanged. Magnificent ceremonies still took place, Venice was still the most splendid and the most luxurious city in the world. If the splendour and luxury were hollow, they were not more so than elsewhere in Europe. The eighteenth century had the strength which comes from great self-confidence and profound satisfaction with one's surroundings. It was so self-satisfied that it could not dream of striving to be much better than it was. Everything was just right; there seemed to be no great issues, no problems arising that human intelligence untrammelled by superstition could not instantly solve. Everybody was therefore in holiday mood, and the gaiety and frivolity of the century were of almost as much account as its politics and culture. There was no room for great distinctions. Hair-dressers and tailors found as much consideration as philosophers and statesmen at a lady's levee. People were delighted with their own occupations, their whole lives; and whatever people delight in, that they will have represented in art. The love for pictures was by no means dead in Venice, and Longhi painted for the picture-loving Venetians their own lives in all their ordinary domestic and fashionable phases. In the hair-dressing scenes we hear the gossip of the periwigged barber; in the dressmaking scenes, the chatter of the maid; in the dancing-school, the pleasant music of the violin. There is no tragic note anywhere. Everybody dresses, dances, makes bows, takes coffee, as if there were nothing else in the world that wanted doing. A tone of high courtesy, of great refinement, coupled with an all-pervading cheerfulness, distinguishes Longhi's pictures from the works of Hogarth, at once so brutal and so full of presage of change.

=XXV. Canaletto and Guardi.=--Venice herself had not grown less beautiful in her decline. Indeed, the building which occupies the very centre of the picture Venice leaves in the mind, the Salute, was not built until the seventeenth century. This was the picture that the Venetian himself loved to have painted for him, and that the stranger wanted to carry away. Canale painted Venice with a feeling for space and atmosphere, with a mastery over the delicate effects of mist peculiar to the city, that make his views of the Salute, the Grand Canal, and the Piazzetta still seem more like Venice than all the pictures of them that have been painted since. Later in the century Canale was followed by Guardi, who executed smaller views with more of an eye for the picturesque, and for what may be called instantaneous effects, thus anticipating both the Romantic and the Impressionist painters of our own century.

=XXVI. Tiepolo.=--But delightful as Longhi, Canale, and Guardi are, and imbued as they are with the spirit of their own century, they lack the quality of force, without which there can be no really impressive style. This quality their contemporary Tiepolo possessed to the utmost. His energy, his feeling for splendour, his mastery over his craft, place him almost on a level with the great Venetians of the sixteenth century, although he never allows one to forget what he owes to them, particularly to Veronese. The grand scenes he paints differ from those of his predecessor not so much in mere inferiority of workmanship, as in a lack of that simplicity and candour which never failed Paolo, no matter how proud the event he might be portraying. Tiepolo's people are haughty, as if they felt that to keep a firm hold on their dignity they could not for a moment relax their faces and figures from a monumental look and bearing. They evidently feel themselves so superior that they are not pleasant to live with, although they carry themselves so well, and are dressed with such splendour, that once in a while it is a great pleasure to look at them. It was Tiepolo's vision of the world that was at fault, and his vision of the world was at fault only because the world itself was at fault. Paolo saw a world touched only by the fashions of the Spanish Court, while Tiepolo lived among people whose very hearts had been vitiated by its measureless haughtiness.

But Tiepolo's feeling for strength, for movement, and for colour was great enough to give a new impulse to art. At times he seems not so much the last of the old masters as the first of the new. The works he left in Spain do more than a little to explain the revival of painting in that country under Goya; and Goya, in his turn, had a great influence upon many of the best French artists of our own times.

=XXVII. Influence of Venetian Art.=--Thus, Venetian painting before it wholly died, flickered up again strong enough to light the torch that is burning so steadily now. Indeed, not the least attraction of the Venetian masters is their note of modernity, by which I mean the feeling they give us that they were on the high road to the art of to-day. We have seen how on two separate occasions Venetian painters gave an impulse to Spaniards, who in turn have had an extraordinary influence on modern painting. It would be easy, too, although it is not my purpose, to show how much other schools of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, such as the Flemish, led by Rubens, and the English led by Reynolds, owed to the Venetians. My endeavour has been to explain some of the attractions of the school, and particularly to show its close dependence upon the thought and feeling of the Renaissance. This is perhaps its greatest interest, for being such a complete expression of the riper spirit of the Renaissance, it helps us to a larger understanding of a period which has in itself the fascination of youth, and which is particularly attractive to us, because the spirit that animates us is singularly like the better spirit of that epoch. We, too, are possessed of boundless curiosity. We, too, have an almost intoxicating sense of human capacity. We, too, believe in a great future for humanity, and nothing has yet happened to check our delight in discovery or our faith in life.

INDEX TO THE WORKS OF THE PRINCIPAL VENETIAN PAINTERS.

NOTE.

Public galleries are mentioned first, then private collections, and churches last. The principal public gallery is always understood after the simple mention of a city or town. Thus, Paris means Paris, Louvre, London means London, National Gallery, etc.

An interrogation point after the number or title of a picture indicates that its attribution to the given painter is doubtful.

Distinctly early or late works are marked E. or L.

It need scarcely be said that the attributions here given are not based on official catalogues, and are often at variance with them.

ANTONELLO DA MESSINA.

=B.= Circa 1444: d. circa 1493. Began under unknown Flemish painter; influenced by the Vivarini and Bellini.

=Antwerp.= 4. Crucifixion, 1475.

=Bergamo.= LOCHIS, 222. St. Sebastian.

=Berlin.= 18. Portrait of Young Man, 1478.
18A. Portrait of Young Man, 1474.
25. Portrait of Young Man in Red Coat.

=Dresden.= 52. St. Sebastian.

=London.= 673. The Saviour, 1465.
1141. Portrait of Man.
1166. Crucifixion, 1477.
1418. St. Jerome in his Study.

=Messina.= Madonna with SS. Gregory and Benedict, 1473.

=Milan.= MUSEO CIVICO, 95. Portrait of Man wearing Wreath.
PRINCE TRIVULZIO, Portrait of Man, 1476.

=Naples.= SALA GRANDE, 16. Portrait of Man.

=Paris.= 1134. Condottiere, 1474.

=Rome.= VILLA BORGHESE, 396. Portrait of Man.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 589. Ecce Homo.
GIOVANELLI, Portrait of Man.

=Vicenza.= SALA IV, 17. Christ at Column.

JACOPO DI BARBARI.

1450 circa-1516 circa. Pupil of Alvise Vivarini; influenced by Antonello da Messina.

=Augsburg.= Still Life Piece, 1504.

=Bergamo.= GALLERY LOCHIS, 147, 148. Heads of Young Men.
FRIZZONI-SALIS, Head of Christ.

=Berlin.= 26A. Madonna and Saints.

=Dresden.= 57. Christ Blessing.
58, 59. SS. Catherine and Barbara.
294. Galatea. L.

=Florence.= PITTI, 384. St. Sebastian.

=Hamburg.= CONSUL WEBER, 24. Old Man and Young Woman. 1503.

=London.= MR. DOETSCH, Portrait of Young Man. L.

=Naples.= SALA DEGLI OLANDESI E TEDESCHI, 51. Bust of a Cardinal.

=Treviso.= S. NICCOLÒ, Frescoes around Tomb of Onigo.
18 PIAZZA DEL DUOMO, Frescoes on Façade.

=Venice.= LADY LAYARD, A Falcon.
FRARI, 2d CHAPEL L. OF CHOIR, Decorative Frescoes.

=Vienna.= 22. Portrait of Young Man.

=Weimar.= Head of Christ.

BARTOLOMMEO VENETO.

Active 1505-1555. Pupil of Gentile Bellini; influenced by Bergamask and Milanese painters.

=Belluno.= 22. Madonna.

=Bergamo.= CARRARA, 185. Landscape. E.
LOCHIS, 127. Madonna, 1505.

=Brussels.= M. LÉON SOMZÉE, Bust of a Venetian Noble.

=Douai.= 324. Portrait of Young Man.

=Dresden.= 292. Salome.

=Florence.= UFFIZI, 650. Portrait of a Man, 1555.

=Frankfort.= 13. Portrait of a Courtesan.
20. St. Catherine.

=Genoa.= PRINCE GIORGIO DORIA, Portrait of a Lady.

Glasgow. 510. St. Catherine crowned.

London. 287. Portrait of Ludovico Martinengo, 1530.
MR. BENSON, Madonna and Angels. E.
DORCHESTER HOUSE, Portrait of Man, 1512.

=Milan.= AMBROSIANA, 24. Madonna. Portrait of Man in Black.
BORROMEO, St. Catherine.
DUKE MELZI, Jewess breaking her Wedding Ring.

=Nancy.= Portrait of Young Man.

=Paris.= 1673. Portrait of Lady.

=Rome.= CORSINI, 610. Portrait of Young Man.
DORIA, 482. The Saviour.

=Venice.= PALAZZO DUCALE, CHAPEL, Madonna.

=Verona.= Madonna. E.

MARCO BASAITI.

Circa 1470-1527. Pupil of Alvise Vivarini; follower of Bellini.

=Badger Hall= (Shropshire). MR. F. CAPEL-CURE, Bust of Boy.

=Bergamo.= CARRARA, 165. the Saviour, 1517.
LOCHIS, 188. Portrait of Man.
MORELLI, Portrait of Man, 1521.
FRIZZONI-SALIS, Madonna with SS. Monica and Francis.

=Berlin.= 6. Pietà. E.
20. Altar-piece.
37. St. Sebastian.
40. Madonna. E.
HERR VON BECKERATH, St. Jerome.
HERR KAUFMANN, St. Jerome.

=Boston, U. S. A.= 35. Entombment. E.

=Buda-Pesth.= 103. St. Catherine Reading. St. Jerome.

=London.= 281. St. Jerome.
599. Madonna.
MR. BENSON, St. Jerome Beside a Pool, 1505.
Portrait of Man. Madonna and Saints. Infant Bacchus.
MR. C. BUTLER, Dead Christ.
MR. SALTING, Madonna. E.
SIR MICHAEL SHAW-STEWART, Madonna.

=Meiningen.= DUCAL PALACE, St. Antony Abbot. St. Paul. L.

=Milan.= AMBROSIANA, 30. Resurrected Christ.

=Munich.= 1031. Madonna, Saints, and Donor. E.

=Murano.= S. PIETRO, Assumption of Virgin.

=Padua.= SALA EMO, 225. Portrait of Man 1521.
Madonna with SS. Liberale and Peter.

=Paris.= M. MARTIN LE ROY, St. Sebastian.

=Rome.= DORIA, 459. St. Sebastian.

=Strassburg.= St. Jerome.

=Stuttgart.= 24. Madonna.
57. Madonna with female Saint.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 68. St. James and St. Antony Abbot.
108. Dead Christ. St. George and Dragon, 1520.
69. Christ in the Garden 1510.
107. St. Jerome.
39. Calling of Children of Zebedee, 1510.
MUSEO CORKER, SALA IX, 24. Madonna and Donor.
34. Christ and Angels.
GIOVANELLI, St. Jerome in Desert.
S. PIETRO IN CASTELLO, St. Peter enthroned and four other Saints.
SALUTE, St. Sebastian.

=Vienna.= 1. Calling of Children of Zebedee, 1515.
HARRACH COLLECTION, Madonna.

JACOPO BASSANO.

1510-1592. Pupil of Bonifazio Veronese.

=Ashridge.= LORD BROWNLOW, Portrait of an Admiral.
Portrait of Youth.

=Augsburg.= 272. Madonna with SS. John and Roch.

=Bassano.= 32. Susanna and Elders. E.
35. Christ and Adulteress. E.
38. The Three Holy Children. E.
41. Madonna, SS. Lucy and Francis, and Donor. E.
22. Flight into Egypt. E.
20. St. John the Baptist.
19. Paradise.
17. Baptism of St. Lucilla.
16. Adoration of Shepherds.
14. St. Martin and the Beggar.
12. St. Roch recommending Donor to Virgin.
13. St. John the Evangelist adored by a Warrior.
10. Descent of Holy Spirit.
4. Madonna in Glory, SS. Lucy and Agatha. L.
45. Last Supper.
DUOMO, St. Lucy in Glory, and Martyrdom of Stephen. L.
Nativity.
S. GIOVANNI, Madonna in Glory, SS. Giustina, Barbara, and Mark.
S. M. DELLE GRAZIE, Crucifixion (fresco).

=Bergamo.= CARRARA, 109. Male Portrait.
LOCHIS, 54. Portrait of Lawyer.
82. Portrait of a Painter.
FRIZZONI-SALIS, Madonna.
Portrait of Old Man.
SIGNOR BAGLIONI, Portrait of Old Man.
CASA SUARDI, St. Jerome in Desert.

=Berlin.= HERR KAUFMANN, Bust of Senator.
HERR WESENDONCK, Animals going into Ark.

=Biel, N. B.= MRS. HAMILTON OGILVIE, Dives and Lazarus. Nativity. L.

=Bologna.= CORRIDOR IV, Two Male Busts.

=Brussels.= 401. Old Man seated.

=Buda-Pesth.= 108. Head of St. Jerome.

=Chatsworth.= DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, Portrait of Niccolò Cappello.

=Cittadella.= DUOMO, Christ at Emaus. E.

=Dijon.= 40. Agony in Garden.
41. St. Sebastian.

=Dresden.= 253. Israelites in Desert.
256. Moses striking Rock.
258. Conversion of Paul.

=Edinburgh.= 327. Portrait of Man.
367. Adoration of Magi. E.

=Feltre.= VESCOVADO, Portrait of Old Man.

=Florence.= UFFIZI, 610. Two Hunting Dogs.

=Gosford House, N. B.= LORD WEMYS, Bust of Old Man.
Senator seated.
St. John in Landscape.

=Hampton Court.= 94. Head of Old Man.
136. Male Portrait.
142. Jacob's Journey.
153. Boaz and Ruth.
163. Shepherds' Offering. E.
169. Christ in the House of the Pharisee.
176. Assumption of Virgin.
210. Men fighting Bears.
223. Tribute Money.

=Hopetoun House, N. B.= LORD HOPETOUN, Portrait of a Doge Seated.

=Linlathen, N. B.= COL. ERSKINE, Agony in Garden.

=London.= 173. Portrait of Man.
228. Christ and the Money Changers.
277. The Good Samaritan.
MR. BENSON, St. John in the Wilderness.
Christ in House of Levi.
Portrait of Woman.
MR. G. DONALDSON, Portrait of Man aged 27, 1558.

=Milan.= AMBROSIANA, 226. Annunciation to Shepherds. L.
230. Adoration of Shepherds. E.

=Modena.= 422. St. Paul and another Saint.

=Montpellier.= 564. Old Man in Armour.

=Munich.= 1128. Old Man, Son, and Grandson.
1148. St. Jerome in Desert.
1150. Deposition from Cross.
1151. Madonna enthroned and two Saints.
LOTZBECK COLLECTION, 101. Portrait Of Lady.

=Padua.= S. MARIA IN VANZO, Entombment.

=Paris.= 1428, Vintage. L.
1429. Portrait of Giovanni da Bologna.
1467. Portrait of Old Man.

=Rome.= VILLA BORGHESE, 144. Last Supper.
127. The Trinity.
CORSINI, 533. Portrait of Lady.
COUNTESS SANTA FIORA, Nativity.

=Rossie Priory, N. B.= LORD KINNAIRD, Annunciation.

=Tours.= 4. Bust of Old Man.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 395. Christ in Garden.
403. Portrait of a Venetian Noble.
401. St. Eleuterius blessing the Faithful.
PALAZZO DUCALE, ANTI-COLLEGIO. Jacob's Journey.
PALAZZO REALE, St. Jerome, 1569.
S. GIACOMO DALL' ORIO, Madonna in Glory and two Saints.

=Verona.= 214. Portrait of a Senator.

=Vicenza.= SALA V, Madonna and Saints. E.
ENTRANCE HALL, 2. Madonna, St. Mark, and two Senators.
PALAZZO LOSCHI, Night Scene.

=Vienna.= 283. The Good Samaritan.
269. Thamar led to the Stake.
276. Adoration of Magi.
301. Rich Man and Lazarus.
266. The Lord shows Abraham the Promised Land.
306. The Sower.
281. A Hunt.
319. Way to Golgotha.
268. Noah entering the Ark.
267. Christ and the Money Changers.
265. After the Flood.
263. SS. Sebastian, Florian, and Roch.
272. Adoration of Magi.
311. Portrait of Procurator.
312. Portrait of Senator.
453. Christ bearing Cross.
230. Two Men.
240. Portrait of Young Man.
480. Portrait of Young Man.
ACADEMY, 21. Portrait of Procurator.

=Woburn Abbey.= 16. Portrait of Venetian Senator.

FRANCESCO BECCARUZZI.

Active in the second and third quarter of the XVI century. Pupil of Pordenone; imitator of all his great Venetian contemporaries; finally, imitator of Paul Veronese.

=Belluno.= 14. Woman in White Dress.

=Bergamo.= LOCHIS, 193. Portrait of Young Woman.

=Berlin.= HERR KAUFMANN, Portrait of Gentleman.
HERR WESENDONCK, 10. Santa Conversazione.

=Boston, U. S. A.= 52. Copy of a (lost) Paris Bordone: Holy Family
and Saints.

=Buda-Pesth.= 84. Bust of Woman.
89. Madonna.
109. Young Woman seated.

=Cambridge.= FITZWILLIAM MUSEUM, 138. Adoration of Shepherds.

=Conegliano.= DUOMO, R. WALL, Three Saints. E.
S. M. DELLE GRAZIE, HIGH ALTAR, Madonna and Saints.
S. ROCCO, ORGAN PICTURE, Madonna and Saints. L.

=Dresden.= 199. Calling of Matthew.

=Ferrara.= SALA II. Christ and the Adulteress.

=Florence.= UFFIZI, 585. Portrait of Man.

=Glasgow.= 29. Madonna enthroned with Saints and Angels.

=Haigh Hall= (near Wigan). LORD CRAWFORD, Bust of Woman.

=Hopetoun House, N. B.= LORD HOPETOUN, Gentleman with Horse and Groom.

=Lille.= 653. Stoning of Stephen(?)
1056. Legend of Moses.

=Linlathen, N. B.= COL. ERSKINE, Bust of Man. Santa Conversazione.

=London.= BURLINGTON HOUSE, DIPLOMA GALLERY, Temperance.
APSLEY HOUSE, Portrait of Lady.
MR. C. BUTLER, Portrait of Man. St. George and the Dragon.
SIR WILLIAM FARRER, Santa Conversazione.
DORCHESTER HOUSE, Portrait of Doge Andrea Gritti.
VISCOUNT POWERSCOURT, Portrait of "Politian."
LORD NORTHBROOK, Santa Conversazione.
MR. G. SALTING, Portrait of Man.

=Keir, N. B.= MR. ARCHIBALD STIRLING, Young Woman playing Organ.

=Milan.= MUSEO CIVICO, 104. Portrait of Man with Spaniel.

=Narbonne.= 253. Marriage of St. Catherine.

=Oldenburg.= 81. Dead Christ.

=Padua.= 9. Santa Conversazione.
1362. Bust of Monk in White.

=Parma.= 254. Portrait of Man.

=Rome.= COLONNA, 16. A Cavalier.
DORIA, 62. Portrait of Woman. 386. Man with Flower.

=Serravalle.= S. ANTONIO, Baptism.

=Strassburg.= Scene taken from Lotto's Crucifixion at Monte San Giusto.

=Stuttgart.= 190. Bust of Man.

=Toulouse.= Holy Family and Infant John presenting Dove.

=Treviso.= MONTE DI PIETÀ, Dead Christ. Prophets.
EREDI PERAZZOLO, Way to Golgotha.
S. LUCIA, SACRISTY, St. Lucy.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 517. St. Francis receiving Stigmata.
525. Deposition.
CORRER, Portrait of "Cesare Borgia."
MANFRIN GALLERY. Santa Conversazione and Donor.
QUIRINI-STAMPALIA, 68. Santa Conversazione.
PALAZZO REALE, Madonna and St. Catherine.

=Venice= (_Con_.). GIOVANELLI, 315. St. Roch.
S. M. DELL' ORTO,
SS. Lawence, Helen, Gregory, Dominic, and Lorenzo Giustiniani.

=Vienna.= 157. Portrait of Lady.
206. A Warrior.
209. The Baptist.
211. Thaddeus.
ACADEMY, 5. St. Lawrence.
6. Nativity.
20. Deposition.
41. St. Paul.

GENTILE BELLINI.

1429-1507. Pupil of his father, Jacopo Bellini; influenced by the Paduans.

=Buda-Pesth.= 101. Portrait of Catherine Cornaro.

=Frankfort a/M.= 18. Bust of St. Mark. E.

=London.= 808. St. Peter Martyr.
1213. Portrait of Mathematician.
1440. Head of a Monk.
MR. LUDWIG MOND, Madonna Enthroned. E.

=Milan.= BRERA, 168. Preaching of St. Mark. L. (Finished by Giovanni
Bellini.)

=Monopoli.= DUOMO, St. Jerome and Donor (?). E.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 570. Beato Lorenzo Giustiniani, 1465.
568. Miracle of True Cross, 1500.
567. Corpus Christi Procession, 1496.
563. Healing accomplished by Fragment of True Cross. L.
MUSEO CORRER, Portrait of Doge Giovanni Mocenigo.
SAN MARCO FABBRICERIA, ORGAN SHUTTERS, SS. Theodore and Mark,
SS. Jerome and Francis. E.
LADY LAYARD, Adoration of Magi. Portrait of Sultan Mohamet, 1480.

GIOVANNI BELLINI.

1430(?)-1516. Pupil of his father, Jacopo; formed in Padua under the influence of Donatello.

=Bergamo.= LOCHIS, 210. Madonna. E.
MORELLI, 27. Madonna.
41. Madonna.

=Berlin.= 4. Pietà. L.
28. Dead Christ.

=Florence.= UFFIZI, 631. Allegory of Tree of Life. L.

=London.= 189. Portrait of Loredano. L.
280. Madonna. L.
726. Agony in Garden. E.
1233. Blood of Redeemer. E.
MR. LUDWIG MOND, Dead Christ. Madonna.

=Milan.= BRERA, 284. Pietà. E.
261. Madonna.
297. Madonna, 1510.
DR. GUST. FRIZZONI, Madonna. E.

=Murano.= S. PIETRO, Madonna with SS. Mark and
Augustin and Doge Barbarigo, 1488.

=Naples.= SALA GRANDE, 7. Transfiguration.

=Newport, U. S. A.= MR. T. H. DAVIS, Madonna. E.

=Pesaro.= 11. Crucifixion (?). E.
52. God the Father.
S. FRANCESCO, Altar-piece in many parts.

=Rimini.= Dead Christ. E.

=Turin.= 779. Madonna. E.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 596. Madonna.
594. Madonna.
595. Five small Allegories. L.
613. Madonna with St. Catherine and Magdalen.
610. Madonna with SS. Paul and George.
612. Madonna.
38. Madonna with six Saints.
MUSEO CORRER, SALA VII, 23. Transfiguration. E.
SALA IX, 27. Dead Christ. E.
46. Crucifixion. E.
54. Dead Christ supported by three Angels. E.
PALAZZO DUCALE, SALA DI TRÈ, Pietà. E.
FRARI, Triptych, Madonna and Saints, 1488.
S. FRANCESCO DELLA VIGNA, Madonna and four Saints, 1507.
S. GIOVANNI CRISOSTOMO, SS. Jerome, Augustin, and Christopher, 1513.
S. MARIA DELL' ORTO, Madonna. E.
S. ZACCARIA, Madonna and four Saints, 1505.

=Verona.= 77. Madonna. E.

=Vicenza.= S. CORONA, Baptism, 1510.

JACOPO BELLINI.

Active 1430-1470. Pupil of the Umbrian painter, Gentile da Fabriano, and of the Veronese, Pisanello.

=Brescia.= S. ALESSANDRO, Annunciation, with five Predelle.

=Ferrara.= SIG. VENDEGHINI, Adoration of Magi.

=London.= BRITISH MUSEUM, Sketch-Book. E.

=Lovere.= TADINI, Madonna.

=Padua.= SALA IV, Christ in Limbo.

=Paris.= Sketch-Book. L.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 582. Madonna.
MUSEO CORRER, SALA IX, 42. Crucifixion.
S. TROVASO, S. Giovanni Crisogono on Horseback. (?)

=Verona.= 365. Christ on Cross.

BISSOLO.

1464-1528. Pupil and assistant of Giovanni Bellini.

=Berlin.= 43. Altar-piece. L.

=Brescia.= TOSIO, SALA XIV, 3. Madonna and Saints. E.

=Chantilly.= Madonna.

=Düsseldorf.= 75. Madonna with Infant John and his Parents.

=Genoa.= ANNUNZIATA, Madonna and four Saints.

=Hampton Court.= 117. Portrait of Man. E.

=London.= MR. BENSON, Annunciation. Madonna.
MR. MOND, Madonna with SS. Paul and Catherine.

=Milan.= BRERA, 237. St. Stephen.
285. St. Antony of Padua.
298. A Bishop.

=Rome.= VILLA BORGHESE, 176. Madonna. E.

=Treviso.= DUOMO, Three Saints and Donor.
S. ANDREA, Madonna and two Saints.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 88. Dead Christ.
93. Presentation in the Temple.
79. Christ Crowning S. Catherine.
94. Madonna with SS. James and Job.
MUSEO CORRER, SALA IX, 57. Madonna with St. Peter Martyr.
S. GIOVANNI IN BRAGORA, Triptych.
S. MARIA MATER DOMINI, Transfiguration.
REDENTORE, Madonna with SS. John and Catherine.
LADY LAYARD, Madonna with SS. Michael and Ursula and Donors.

=Verona.= Circumcision. E.

=Vienna.= 13. Lady at Toilet, 1515.
4. Baptism.

BONIFAZIO VERONESE.

Active circa 1510-1540. Pupil of Palma Vecchio; influenced by Giorgione.

=Bergamo.= CARRARA, 197, 198. Small mythological Scenes.
FRIZZONI-SALIS, Parable of Sower.

=Boston, U. S. A.= MRS. J. L. GARDNER, Santa Conversazione. E.

=Campo S. Piero.= ORATORY OF S. ANTONIO, Preaching of St. Antony (in part).

=Dresden.= 208. Finding of Moses.

=Florence.= PITTI, 84. Madonna, St. Elizabeth, and Donor. E.
89. Rest in Flight.
161. Finding of Moses.
405. Christ among the Doctors (in part).

=Hague.= 252. Bust of Woman.

=Hampton Court.= 146. Santa Conversazione.

=Lille.= 717. Esther before Ahasuerus.

=London.= 1202. Santa Conversazione. E.
MR. BENSON, Allegories of Morning, and of Night (in part).
MR. BUTLER, Santa Conversazione. Rape of Helen. Subject from a Romance.
MR. CHARLES T. D. CREWS, Birth of John.
DR. RICHTER, Joseph drawn out of the Well. Head of Pompey brought to
Cæsar.

=Milan.= BRERA, 209. Finding of Moses.
AMBROSIANA, 231. Holy Family with Tobias and Angel. E.
POLDI-PEZZOLI, PINACOTECA, 99. Doctor Visiting a Patient.

=Paris.= 1171. Santa Conversazione.

=Rome.= VILLA BORGHESE, 156. Mother of Zebedee's Children.
186. Return of the Prodigal Son.
COLONNA, 1. Holy Family with SS. Jerome and Lucy.
DORIA, 16. Santa Conversazione.
PRINCE CHIGI, Finding of Moses.

=Venice.= ACADEMY, 291. Rich Man's Feast.
319. Massacre of Innocents.
295. Judgment of Solomon, 1533 (in part).
PALAZZO REALE, Madonna with SS. Catherine and John the Almsgiver, 1533.
GIOVANELLI, Santa Conversazione.
LADY LAYARD, Twelve very small pictures: Rustic Occupations.

=Vienna.= 193. Santa Conversazione.
201. Triumph of Love.
156. Triumph of Chastity.
145. Salome.

FRANCESCO BONSIGNORI.

1453(?)-1519. Pupil of Bartolommeo and Alvise Vivarini; influenced by Giovanni Bellini, and later by Mantegna and his own townsman, Liberale of Verona.

=Bergamo.= LOCHIS, 154. Portrait of a Gonzaga.
MORELLI, 45. The Widow's Son. L.

=Berlin.= 46C. St. Sebastian.

=Florence.= BARGELLO, Christ bearing Cross. L.

=Fonthill (Wilts).= MR. ALFRED MORRISON, Portrait of Man.

=Gosford House, N. B.= LORD WEMYS, Madonna enthroned.

=London.= 736. Portrait of Man, 1487.

=Mantua.= ACCADEMIA VIRGILIANA, Way to Golgotha. Vision of the Nun Osanna.

=Milan.= BRERA, 163. St. Bernardino.
170. SS. Bernardino and Louis holding the Initials of Christ.
POLDI-PEZZOLI, Head of a female Saint. St. Bernardino.
Profile of Old Man. Bust of Venetian Noble.

=Paris.= PRINCE SCIARRA, Bust of a Gonzaga.

=Venice.= PALAZZO DUCALE, DIRECTORS' ROOM. Madonna. E.
S. GIOVANNI E PAOLO, 2d Altar R. Altar-piece in 9 parts. E.

=Verona.= 148. Madonna, 1483.
271. Madonna enthroned with four Saints, 1484.
S. BERNARDINO, Madonna enthroned with SS. Jerome and George, 1488.
S. NAZZARO E CELSO, Madonna and Saints, finished by Girolamo dai Libri.
S. PAOLO, Madonna with St. Antony Abbot and the Magdalen. E.

PARIS BORDONE.

1495-1570. Pupil and follower of Titian; influenced later by Michelangelo.

=Ashridge.= LORD BROWNLOW, Apollo and the Muses.

=Bergamo.= LOCHIS, 41, 42. Vintage Scenes.

=Berlin.= 169. Chess Players.
191. Madonna and four Saints.

=Chatsworth.= DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, Family Group.

=Cologne.= 811A.A. Bathsheba.

=Dresden.= 203. Apollo and Marsyas.
204. Diana as Huntress.
205. Holy Family and St. Jerome.

=Edinburgh.= 506. Lady at her Toilet.

=Florence.= PITTI, 109. Portrait of Woman.
UFFIZI, 607. Portrait of Young Man.

=Genoa.= BRIGNOLE-SALE, SALA V. Portrait of Man.
SALA VIII, Santa Conversazione. Portrait of Man.

=Glasgow.= 45. Holy Family.
46. Holy Family. E.

=Gosford House, N. B.= LORD WEMYS, A Courtesan.

=Hampton Court.= 118. Madonna with male and female Donors.

=Keir, N. B.= MR. ARCHIBALD STIRLING, Madonna and Infant John.

=London.= 637. Daphnis and Chloe.
674. Portrait of Lady.
BRIDGEWATER HOUSE, Holy Family.
LORD BROWNLOW, Cavalier in Armour.
THE MISSES COHEN, Portrait of a Lady seated.
MR. G. DONALDSON, A Courtesan.
DR. RICHTER, Christ among the Doctors.
LORD ROSEBERY, Portrait of a Lady.

=Lovere.= TADINI, Madonna with SS. George and Christopher.

=Milan.= BRERA, 212. Baptism.
216. Descent of Holy Spirit.
241. S. Dominic presented to Saviour by Virgin.
242. Madonna and Saints.
306 bis. Three Heads.
St. Ambrose presenting a General to Virgin.
SIGNOR CRESPI, Jove and a Nymph.
S. MARIA PRESSO CELSO, Madonna and St. Jerome.

=Munich.= 1121. Man counting Jewels.

=New York, U. S. A.= HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 205. Rest in Flight.

=Padua.= SALA EMO, 93. Christ taking leave of his Mother.