Chapter IV: Table of Biographical Data (2)

The visitor in Florence threading his way through the narrow streets comes out with delight into the spacious squares scattered over the city. One such is the Piazza of SS. Annunziata, in front of the church of that name. Two sides of the square are ornamented with arcaded buildings in the style characteristic of Italian architecture. That at the left attracts us at once by its unique decorations. In the spandrils, or triangular spaces between the arches, are medallion bas-reliefs of glazed terra cotta showing white figures relieved against a background of bright blue. It is one of these which is reproduced in our illustration. Seen against the sombre wall they are like "fragments of the milky sky itself fallen into the cool street," as a poetic critic has described them.[38]

From each medallion a baby looks down upon us, stretching out both little arms as if appealing to our pity. The delicate beauty of these little ones is so like that of the flowers that a traveller asks, "Really, are they lilies, or children, or the embodied strophes of a psalter?"[39] When we inquire what it all means we learn that this arcade is the entrance to a Foundling Hospital. Passing through the central door we are in a _cortile_ or courtyard, around which are more baby figures. The design is a sort of key to the character of the institution: the babies represent the little waifs received into its care. We may fancy that the orphan inmates are peeping out of the medallions as from windows.

The Hospital of the Innocents (Spedale degli Innocenti, in Italian) is one of the oldest establishments of its kind. It was founded in the fifteenth century, and still carries on its good work. Several thousand children are annually supported by its resources.[40] To multiply the figures by four hundred and fifty makes a magnificent showing for the total number of beneficiaries in four and a half centuries. It was probably on the occasion of some improvements in the original building (1463) that Andrea della Robbia furnished the famous medallions of the _bambini_, or baby boys.

Among so many babies we yet find no two alike. Each visitor chooses for himself some special favorite. The medallion of our illustration is one of the most attractive of the number. Unfortunately the fingers of the right hand are broken off, but otherwise the figure is quite perfect.

The child is a healthy-looking little fellow, and the creases in neck and wrists show how plump he is. Yet there is a pathetic expression on the face which touches the heart. It is as if orphanage had laid its sorrowful impress upon him. A lonely look has crept into the eyes, and the mouth droops in a sad little curve. The boy is certainly no common child. His finely formed head promises a superior character. We are reminded of the Christ child, as many of the old masters have represented him. The body and legs are completely encased in swaddling bands, from which the head and arms emerge, like a blossom from its calyx.

The custom of swathing babies with bandages is very ancient. We read in the gospel of St. Luke how the mother of Jesus wrapped her son in swaddling clothes as she laid him in the manger. The object was to prevent every possible injury or deformity to the growing limbs, and keep them straight. A child in swaddling clothes is naturally much more easily carried by the mother, and can more safely be left alone. This is doubtless the reason why the custom still prevails in many countries, and especially among the poorer people. There are still many nations which the progressive ideas of physical culture have not reached.

The method of swaddling as now practised in Italy begins by folding the babe in a large square linen cloth. A second piece of linen is rolled around the body, which is then ready for the bandage. This bandage is about ten inches wide and over three yards long, and is rolled about the entire length of the child's figure, pinning the arms to the sides. The lower part of the linen cloth is turned up over the feet and tied with the ends of the bandage.[41]

Judging from our picture, the process seems to have been about the same in the fifteenth century, except that the arms of our bambino are free. Certainly this fact makes the figure much more attractive as well as more decorative. The cloth about the child's body is brown and the bandage white.

The sculptor of the bambini, Andrea della Robbia, was the nephew of Luca della Robbia, of whom we have learned something in previous chapters. He was trained in the workshop of his uncle, and in turn passed on his art to his three sons. While Luca's work is considered superior to that of any of his pupils, the nephew Andrea had some fine artistic qualities. The decorations of the Foundling Hospital illustrate both the delicacy and the fertility of his imagination. Only a genuine artist could invent so many variations upon the simple theme of a single baby figure. The entire series is like a musical composition based upon some simple but exquisite melody.

[Footnote 38: Walter Pater.]

[Footnote 39: Maurice Hewlett in _Earthwork out of Tuscany_.]

[Footnote 40: Between 7000 and 8000, according to the Misses Horner's _Walks in Florence_, published in 1885.]

[Footnote 41: Described in a little book called _Italian Child-Life_, by Marietta Ambrosi.]

XI

THE ANNUNCIATION

BY ANDREA DELLA ROBBIA

The life of Mary the mother of Jesus was full of strange experiences. She had many sorrows to bear, but withal a joy beyond any ever given to woman. In the purity of her character she was set apart for a high and holy service.

The turning-point in her life was on a great day when the angel Gabriel was sent by God to visit her. It was in her quiet home in Nazareth that the celestial messenger "came in unto her." "Hail, thou that art highly favoured," he said, "the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women." "And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be."

The angel spoke again, and his words reassured her: "Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God." Then he told her that she was to be the mother of a wonderful son. "Thou shalt call his name Jesus," he said. "He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: and he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end."[42]

When at last Mary understood the meaning of the angel's message she humbly accepted her great destiny. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord," she replied; "be it unto me according to thy word." From this day until the birth of Jesus her thoughts were full of her coming motherhood. Once she broke forth into a song of praise:--

"My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour, For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden, For, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath magnified me, and holy is his name."[43]

The bas-relief by Andrea della Robbia tells the story of the angel's visit to Mary, the subject usually called the Annunciation. At one side sits the Virgin with an open book on her lap, as if she had been reading. She has a girl's slender figure, and her head is modestly draped with a mantle. The angel kneels opposite, with folded hands. He has long pointed wings covered with feathers as "a bird of God," in Dante's phrase.

From above a fatherly face looks down upon them out of a surrounding circle of winged cherub heads. Beside the Virgin stands a jar of lilies, the flowers which symbolize the purity of her maidenhood. Over these soars a white dove, the same symbol of the Divine Spirit which descended upon Jesus at his baptism.[44]

Already the angel has delivered his message, and now awaits the answer. His face is round and innocent like a child's, and his long hair is carefully curled. The Virgin has listened with drooping head, and with her hand pressed to her breast as if to still the beating of her heart. She seems too timid to lift her eyes to meet her radiant guest. Yet her whole attitude expresses submission to the divine will.

The artist has expressed with rare delicacy of imagination the religious sentiment of the incident. The interpretation is in a similar vein to that of the poet painter Rossetti in the lines on the Annunciation in the poem "Ave:"--

"Then suddenly the awe grew deep As of a day to which all days Were footsteps in God's secret ways; Until a folding sense, like prayer, Which is, as God is, everywhere, Gathered about thee; and a voice Spake to thee without any noise, Being of the silence:--'Hail,' it said, 'Thou that art highly favoured; The Lord is with thee, here and now; Blessed among all women thou.'"

Rossetti, it will be remembered, belonged to that circle of English artists who some fifty years ago attempted to revive the simple reverence of the Italian art previous to Raphael. Thus the "Pre-Raphaelite" poet and the sculptor, though separated by so many centuries, had the common aim of expressing "the sense of prayer" which gathered about the Virgin in this moment. Rossetti also treated the Annunciation in a picture which has interesting points of comparison with our illustration.

The relief is made in the Della Robbia enamelled terra cotta ware. The sculptor has here followed his uncle's example in the simplicity of the draperies. The modelling of the hands also recalls the touch of Luca. In choice of types, however, Andrea shows his individual taste. The fragile figure of the Virgin is as different as possible from the robust beauty of Luca's Madonna which we have studied. The angel too is of a softer and less vigorous character than the older artist would have designed.

The relief is surrounded by an elaborate frame of the same material. At the sides decorated pillars with Ionic capitals support an entablature, every section of which has its own distinctive design. The patterns ornamenting frieze and pillars seem to be variations on the lotus motive, and are very graceful. On the dado, or piece running across the bottom of the frame, is printed the Latin inscription: "Ecce Ancilla Domini. Fiat Mihi secundum verbum tuum" (Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to thy word). It is interesting to notice that at this period the letters _n_ and _m_ were written above the line or united with the vowels which they followed.

[Footnote 42: St. Luke, chapter i., verses 30-33.]

[Footnote 43: From the Magnificat in the Prayer Book version.]

[Footnote 44: St. Matthew, chapter iii., verse 16.]

XII

THE ASCENSION

BY LUCA DELLA ROBBIA

For forty days after the resurrection of Jesus the disciples enjoyed the companionship of their Master. They were now ready to understand many things that before had been obscure to them, and Jesus spoke to them much of the things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.[45] Sometimes, as they sat together, he suddenly appeared among them.[46] Once when a few of them had been out fishing over night they found him standing on the shore in the morning.[47]

Still later he appointed a meeting on a mountain in Galilee at which over five hundred of the faithful were gathered. It was then that he commanded them to go forth to teach all nations, and he gave them the promise, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."[48]

Finally he led the chosen band to the Mount of Olives at Bethany, "and he lifted up his hands and blessed them. And it came to pass while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven." "And a cloud received him out of their sight. And while they looked stedfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel; which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven."[49]

In Luca della Robbia's bas-relief of the Ascension the moment has come when, in the very act of blessing his disciples, Jesus is parted from them. He had already, in some measure, prepared them for this event. On the day of his resurrection he told them that he was about to ascend to his father.[50] To-day his words and manner may have shown them that the time was at hand. Certainly there are no startled or grief-stricken faces among them; no gestures of surprise. It is as if in response to some sign from the master, they had all knelt to receive his benediction, and while they were still on their knees, he rose from their midst. Already his feet have left the solid earth, as he vanishes out of their sight.

The company form a circle just as they had clustered about him. So orderly is their arrangement, so quietly is the great act accomplished, that they seem to be taking part in some religious service. All eyes are fixed upon the Saviour, with love, joy, and adoration expressed in every countenance.

The treachery of Judas had reduced the number of disciples to eleven, and the vacant place was not filled until later. We see, however, twelve figures in this circle, and notice that one is a woman. This is Mary, the mother of Jesus, who had lived with John since the day of the Crucifixion. It was the express wish of Jesus that the beloved disciple should regard her as a mother. Thus it is not unnatural to suppose that the two would come together to Bethany at this time, and kneel side by side, as we see them here. Mary looks as young as when she held her babe in her arms, and she has the same happy expression. It is not possible to make out who the others are. We fancy that the two beardless young men at the right are Thomas and Philip, because they are thought to have been younger than the other disciples.

The figure of the Saviour is noble and dignified, the attitude full of buoyancy. The face is such as from long association we have come to identify with the person of Christ, benignant and refined. He looks not up into the glory towards which he is ascending, but his glance still lingers upon the disciples with an expression of tender solicitude. An oval frame of radiating lines surrounds his entire figure. It is the _mandorla_, or almond-shaped nimbus, which was the old artistic symbol of divine glory.

We have already noticed some of the characteristics of Luca della Robbia's art, which are again illustrated in this work. The draperies are arranged with a simplicity of line which is almost severe. The folds are scanty, clinging to the figure and following the fine outlines of the pose. The figures are white, set off against the blue of the sky, and green, brown, and yellow are introduced in the landscape surroundings.

The bas-relief is one of two lunettes placed over opposite doors in the cathedral of Florence. The companion subject is the Resurrection, and in both pieces the sculptor went beyond his usual limit in the number of figures making up the composition. The leading quality of his work is decorative, and he seldom applied his art to the illustration of story. We are the more interested in his remarkable success in these instances.

A painter would naturally have brought out the more dramatic features of the Ascension, showing the excitement and confusion of the moment. Luca knew well that sculpture was unsuited for violent action, and he sought rather to convey a sense of repose in his work. Moreover he infused a devotional spirit into the scene which he seldom attained. Marcel-Reymond says that only in Fra Angelico's work can one find figures expressing such an ecstasy of love and devotion.

[Footnote 45: Acts, chapter i., verse 3.]

[Footnote 46: St. Mark, chapter xvi., verse 14; St. John, chapter xx., verse 26.]

[Footnote 47: St. John, chapter xxi., verse 4.]

[Footnote 48: St. Matthew, chapter xxviii., verses 19, 20.]

[Footnote 49: St. Luke, chapter xxiv., verses 50, 51; Acts, chapter i., verses 9-11.]

[Footnote 50: St. John, chapter xx., verse 17.]

XIII

TOMB OF THE CARDINAL OF PORTUGAL

BY ANTONIO ROSSELLINO

In the church of San Miniato, on a hill overlooking Florence, is a memorial chapel built in honor of a Portuguese cardinal who is buried here. Architecture, painting, and sculpture are here united to make a perfect artistic whole. The room was designed by the architect Antonio Manetti; the altar and walls are adorned with paintings by Pollaiuolo and Baldovinetti, the roof is decorated with medallions of Delia Robbia ware, and at one side is the cardinal's tomb.

This prelate, Jacopo di Portogallo, died in Florence while visiting the city on a diplomatic mission. He was a young man under thirty years of age, a cousin of the reigning king of Portugal, and was besides the cardinal archbishop of Lisbon. Naturally he was received as a guest of unusual distinction, and his amiable qualities won him warm friends among the Florentines. Though dying in a foreign land, he was buried with such honors as his own countrymen could hardly have surpassed. This was in 1459, at a time when Antonio Rossellino was a prominent sculptor of Tuscany. He was the artist chosen by the Bishop of Florence to construct the Portuguese cardinal's tomb.

On a richly carved base stands the sarcophagus or marble coffin in an arched niche. Just over this, on a bier, lies the portrait figure of the cardinal in his ecclesiastical robes. All this is surrounded by a square framework, not unlike a mantelpiece in style, on the two upper corners of which are kneeling angels. The wall space above is ornamented by angels holding over a simulated window a medallion containing a Madonna and child.

Our illustration shows this portion of the wall, and includes a part of the angel figures kneeling at the upper corners of the tomb. The angel on the left side holds the crown, which is the reward of a faithful life. It is the "crown of righteousness," the "crown of life," or the "crown of glory which fadeth not away."[31] His companion must once have carried a palm branch, according to an old description, but this has disappeared. The angels bearing the medallion fly forward as if swimming through the air, alternately bending the knee and thrusting out the leg. Their draperies flutter about them in the swiftness of their motion. Such vigorous action is an unusual motive in decorative art, and perhaps not altogether appropriate. All four of the angels have delicate features and sweet expressions.

The medallion is, artistically considered, the loveliest portion of the whole work. The face of the Madonna is of that perfect oval which artists choose for their ideal of beauty. We admire too the delicately cut features, the waving hair, and the shapely hands. Both she and the child look down from their high frame, smiling upon those who may stand on the pavement below. The child raises his hand in a gesture of benediction, the three fingers extended as a sign of the trinity.

It is not an easy problem to fit the compositional lines of a group into a circular frame. Rossellino solved it very prettily by outlining the figures in a diamond-shaped diagram. You may easily trace the four sides, drawing one line from the Madonna's head along her right shoulder, another from her elbow to the finger tip, a third from the child's toes to his left elbow, a fourth from his elbow to the top of the mother's veil.

It will be noticed that in the whole decorative scheme of the monument there is nothing to suggest the idea of mourning. There is here no sense of gloom in the presence of death. The rejoicing of the angels, the smile of the mother and child, and the peaceful sleep of the cardinal, all express the Christian hope of immortality beyond the grave.

The sentiment is particularly appropriate to the character of the man whose memory is honored here. The Florentine writer Vespasiano Bisticci described him as being "of a most amiable nature, a pattern of humanity, and an abundant fountain of good, through God, to the poor.... He lived in the flesh as if he were free from it, rather the life of an angel than a man, and his death was holy as his life."[52]

Allowing something for the extravagance of speech which was the fashion of that time, we may still believe that the Cardinal of Portugal was a man whose character was singularly pure in an age when good men were none too common. Of the sculptor Rossellino also fair words are spoken. Vasari declared that he "was venerated almost as a saint for the admirable virtues which he added to his knowledge of art."

The custom of erecting elaborate marble tombs was an interesting feature of the Renaissance art in Italy. Such monuments formed an important part of the interior decoration of churches. Church dignitaries took great pride in the thought that their names would be immortalized in these works of art. Some had their tombs made while still living, that they might make sure of a satisfactory design.[53] Others gave directions on the subject with their dying breath, as in Browning's poem, "The Bishop Orders his Tomb at St. Praxed's." Of the many fine tombs in the churches of Tuscany, this monument of the Cardinal of Portugal is counted one of the three best.[54]

[Footnote 51: 2 Timothy, chapter iv., verse 8; St. James, chapter i., verse 12; 1 Peter, chapter v., verse 4. The symbolism of the crown is explained in Mrs. Jameson's _Sacred and Legendary Art_, page 28.]

[Footnote 52: In _Vite di Uomini Illustri del Secolo XV_.]

[Footnote 53: As Bishop Salutati, whose tomb is mentioned in Chapter IV.]

[Footnote 54: By C. C. Perkins in _Tuscan Sculptors_.]

XIV

EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF GATTAMELATA

BY DONATELLO

In the fifteenth century Italy was divided into numerous independent states, among which there was more or less rivalry. The two great powers of the north were Venice and Milan, both striving for the possession of Lombardy. To the Venetian republic already belonged an extensive territory on the mainland, and she was determined on conquest at any cost. To this end condottieri were employed to carry on the several campaigns.

These condottieri were military leaders who made war a business. It mattered nothing to them on what side they fought or against what enemy, so long as they were well paid for their services. As a rule they were men of unscrupulous character, many of whom betrayed the cause entrusted to them. To this rule a notable exception was Gattamelata,[55] the subject of the equestrian statue in our illustration.

The man's real name was Erasmo da Narni. It was as first lieutenant in the Venetian army that he came into notice, serving under Gonzaga. When later this Gonzaga went over to the cause of the Milanese enemy, the lieutenant was promoted to the command. He threw into the work before him, says the historian, "an honest heart and splendid faculties."

The Milanese army was much larger than the Venetian, and was commanded by the famous strategist Niccolo Piccinino. Gattamelata could make little headway against such odds, but all that was possible to do he accomplished "with equal courage, fidelity, and zeal." At length, in attempting to bring relief to the besieged city of Brescia, he found himself shut in between the Lake of Garda and the Alps.

It was in the month of September, 1438. Snow already lay on the mountains, and the rivers were swollen with the autumn rains. The roads were out of repair, bridges were washed away, and even the fords were impassable. To make matters worse, the army was short of provisions. Such conditions would have forced any other general to lay down his arms, but not Gattamelata. With admirable coolness, he led his men in a retreat across the mountains and around the lake. Three thousand horsemen and two thousand infantry made up their number, and all were devoted to their leader. Torrents were bridged, old roads repaired, new ones opened, and at the end of a month the army emerged upon the Lombard plain.

Thus were the Venetian arms saved, and at the same time the Milanese were baffled in a design to come between Venice and her army. Gattamelata's retreat was a victory of peace, less showy, perhaps, than a victory of war, but requiring the finest qualities of generalship. In recognition of his services the Venetian Signory conferred the title of nobility upon him, with a palace and a pension.

In the following year, the Venetian cause was strengthened by alliance with Florence, and Gattamelata yielded the first place in command to Sforza, the general of the Florentine forces. In 1440 the united armies succeeded in relieving Brescia, but in the same year a calamity befell Gattamelata. Exposure to cold brought on paralysis, and after a lingering illness of two years he died. The honor of a great funeral was accorded him at the public expense, and he was buried in the church of S. Antonio at Padua. The next year the sculptor, Donatello, was commissioned to make an equestrian statue of the great condottiere to be set up in the square in front of the church.[56]

With quiet dignity Gattamelata rides forward on his horse as if reviewing his army. There is nothing pompous in his attitude or manner. He seems a plain man intent upon his task, with no thought of display. He has the strong face of one born for leadership, and we can believe the stories of his troops' devotion to him. With his right hand he lifts his wand in a gesture of command, letting it rest across the horse's neck.

He is dressed in the picturesque war costume of the period, and wears metal plates upon his arms. A long sword swings at his side, and spurs are attached to his heels. Yet apparently he is not actually equipped for the battle, for his head is uncovered. He has a high receding forehead and thick curls. The peculiar shape of the head, looking almost conical from some points of view, indicates a forcible character. It is evident that this is a man of action rather than of words. His appearance fits admirably the facts of his life as one whose energy and courage could overcome any obstacle. Gattamelata was not a patriot, as we understand patriotism, being but a mercenary captain. But he showed a rare loyalty to the cause he espoused. It is not as a fighting man that we admire him to-day, but as a man of remarkable resources.

Obedient to the master's hand, the horse ambles at a moderate pace. Except the bridle, he has no trappings, and we thus see to the best advantage the fine proportions of his figure. Before undertaking this work Donatello had had no experience in modelling the horse, and his success is the more remarkable. It is, however, the man rather than the horse which shows the full power of the sculptor's art. The subject was one exactly suited to his taste, which preferred vigorous masculine qualities to all others.

In ancient sculpture equestrian subjects were very important. On the Parthenon at Athens a frieze of bas-relief contained rows of horsemen riding in the Panathenaic procession.[57] In a public square in Rome was a famous statue of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius on horseback. Donatello was the first sculptor of the Christian era to revive this noble form of art. The statue of Gattamelata is therefore the parent of the long line of modern equestrian statues.

[Footnote 55: The literal meaning of this sobriquet is _Honeyed cat_.]

[Footnote 56: W. C. Hazlitt's _Venetian Republic_ furnishes the quotations and information for this account of Gattamelata. Other sources of material on the subject are Fabretti, _Biog. dei Capitani dell' Umbria_, Hoefer's _Biog. universelle_, and Michaud's _Biog. generale_. Symonds gives a general account of the condottieri in the _Age of Despots_.]

[Footnote 57: See Chapter III. of the volume on _Greek Sculpture_, in the Riverside Art Series.]

XV

SHRINE

BY MINO DA FIESOLE

We have seen from the examples in our collection that the art of sculpture may be applied in many forms to the decoration of churches, without and within. Statues like those in the niches on the church of Or San Michele, sculptured altars like that by Donatello in the church at Padua, organ galleries like that by Luca della Robbia in the Florence cathedral, monumental tombs like those of Ilaria del Carretto and the Cardinal of Portugal, medallions and lunettes on walls and ceilings, are among the treasures enriching the churches of Italy.

Sculpture may also be used to ornament almost every article of church furnishing: pulpits, fonts, and basins for holy water, wardrobes and cabinets, chests and chairs, as well as a multitude of those smaller objects wrought in metal which belong to the goldsmith's art. Upon all such things as these the Italian artists of the fifteenth century spent much careful and loving labor.

Our illustration shows a kind of church furniture common in this period. It is a sculptured cabinet to contain articles used in the altar services, such as the sacramental wafers or the holy oil. A receptacle for objects so sacred is called a shrine. The architectural framework is in the form styled a tabernacle, such as we have seen in the niches on the outside of Or San Michele.[58]

The artist was Mino da Fiesole, whose decorative works were very popular, both for the delicacy of their finish and the quality of sentiment they expressed. His idea here was to make the design suggest a sacred story, the story of Christ's resurrection. The opening into the cabinet is the entrance of the tomb, and without, the angels await the coming of the risen Lord.

Our thoughts turn to the Sunday morning in the garden of Joseph of Arimathea, when the faithful women came to the rock-hewn tomb. The stone had been rolled away, and angels greeted them with the glad tidings, "He is risen."[59] The angels of our picture press forward eagerly to peer into the shadowy depths of the interior. There are two who are close to the door, while two more, with long torches, stand on the step below. Above the door hovers a dove, the emblem of the Holy Spirit.

Various features of the tabernacle illustrate characteristic qualities of the Italian art of this period. The arched top is to be noticed as much more common in Italy than the Gothic or pointed roof. The winged cherub heads were a favorite decorative design. We have seen one example of their use in the frame of the medallion on the Portuguese cardinal's tomb. The decorated side pillars with Ionic capitals we have seen in the altarpiece of the Annunciation by Andrea della Robbia.

The shrine of our illustration was originally made for the nuns of the convent of the Murate. It is mentioned by Vasari as a work which the artist "conducted to perfection with all the diligence of which he was capable." That its first purpose was to hold the sacramental wafers we may be sure from the Latin inscription, "This is the living bread which came down from heaven." The words are those used by our Lord himself in one of the discourses recorded by St. John.[60]

In 1815 the shrine was removed to its present place in the church of S. Croce, Florence, where it is in the chapel of the Medici, also called the chapel of the Novitiate.

[Footnote 58: Chapter II.]

[Footnote 59: St. Mark, chapter xvi., verses 4-6.]

[Footnote 60: St. John, chapter vi., verse 51.]

XVI

IL MARZOCCO (THE HERALDIC LION OF FLORENCE)

BY DONATELLO

In the history of the several cities of Italy every town has chosen some design to be inscribed upon a shield as a coat of arms. Florence has the lily, as a reminder of the far-away days when the valley of the Arno was filled with the red blossoms of the amaryllis. It was for this that the name _Firenze_ was given to the city, the "City of Flowers." The lily is drawn in three petals somewhat like those of the fleur-de-lis of France; but the Florentine flower is broader than its French counterpart, and has besides two slender flower-stalks separating the larger petals. When represented in color it is always red.

The tutelary genius of Florence is the lion. He stands for the noble and heroic qualities in the Florentine citizen. Courage and patriotism have many a time been magnificently illustrated in the history of the city's struggles against tyranny. Like the king of beasts, the loyal Florentine prefers death to the loss of liberty.

The choice of the lion as a civic emblem explains the fact that a preserve of lions was once kept in Florence at the public expense. This was given up centuries ago, but the Via de' Leoni, or street of the lions, remains to remind us of the old custom. There was still another way in which Florence kept the emblem continually before the minds of her people. This was in the stone lion called the _Marzocco_, set up in the piazza, or square, of the Signoria.

For many years the civic life of Florence centred in the Piazza della Signoria, where stands the old gray stone palace called the Palazzo Vecchio. Of some of the important events which took place here in the fifteenth century we may read in George Eliot's "Romola." It was here the Florentines gathered on all occasions of public interest, whether connected with the political or the religious affairs of their city.

In front of the Palazzo Vecchio is a stone platform called the _ringhiera_, and it was on this that the Marzocco was set up as a stimulus to patriotism. The lion sits on his haunches in an attitude of grave dignity. In this position he is much more alert than a crouching lion, and less aggressive than the rampant lion. His duty is to guard the honor of the city, and his pose is much like that of the watchdog. With his right paw he supports a shield on which the Florentine lily is engraved. We are reminded of our own national eagle holding the shield of the stars and stripes.

In such a figure we do not look for a close resemblance to nature. The subjects of heraldic art are treated in a decorative way with a certain stiffness of form. The device of the lily is not an actual picture of the flower, but a kind of floral diagram, or what we call a conventionalized form. So, too, the lion is of a formal or emblematic type. Yet there is a certain expressiveness in the face of the old fellow which makes us like him. Like the winged lion of St. Mark's in Venice, he has made many friends.

Il Marzocco is carved out of soft gray stone which the Italians call _pietra serena_. It is believed to have been made by Donatello, and it stands on a beautiful carved pedestal. Like the same sculptor's statue of St. George it was deemed too precious to leave exposed in the open air, and was therefore removed to a museum. A bronze copy now stands in its place on the platform of the old palace.

PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OF PROPER NAMES AND FOREIGN WORDS

The Diacritical Marks given are those found in the latest edition of Webster's International Dictionary.

EXPLANATION OF DIACRITICAL MARKS.

A Dash ([=]) above the vowel denotes the long sound, as in f[=a]te, [=e]ve, t[=i]me, n[=o]te, [=u]se. A Dash and a Dot ([.=]) above the vowel denote the same sound, less prolonged. A Curve ([)]) above the vowel denotes the short sound, as in [)a]dd, [)e]nd, [)i]ll, [)o]dd, [)u]p. A Dot ([.]) above the vowel a denotes the obscure sound of a in p[.a]st, [.a]b[=a]te, Am[)e]ric[.a]. A Double Dot ([:])above the vowel a denotes the broad sound of a in faether, aelms. A Double Dot ([:]) below the vowel a denotes the sound of a in b[a:]ll. A Wave ([~]) above the vowel e denotes the sound of e in h[~e]r. A Circumflex Accent ([^]) above the vowel o denotes the sound of o in born. A dot (.) below the vowel u denotes the sound of u in the French language. =N= indicates that the preceding vowel has the French nasal tone. =G= and =K= denote the guttural sound of ch in the German language. _th_ denotes the sound of th in the, this. c sounds like s. [-c] sounds like k. _[s+]_ sounds like _z_. _[=g]_ is hard as in [=g]et. _[.g]_ is soft as in [.g]em.

Alger ([)a]l'j[~e]r). Ambrosi, Marietta (mae-r[=e]-[)e]t'tae aem-br[=o]'z[=e]). Andrea (aen-dr[=a]'ae). Angelico, Fra (frae aen-j[)e]l'[=e]-k[=o]). Annunziata (aen-n[=oo]n-ts[=e]-ae'tae). Antonio (aen-t[=o]'n[=e]-[=o]). Apollo ([.a]-p[)o]l'l[=o]). Arezzo (ae-r[)e]t's[=o]). Arimathea ([)a]r-[)i]-m[.a]-th[=e]'[.a]). Aristotle ([)a]r'[)i]s-t[)o]tl). Arras (aer-raes').

Baldovinetti (bael-d[=o]-v[=e]-n[)e]t't[=e]). Bambino (baem-b[=e]'n[=o]). Bartolommeo (baer-t[=o]-l[)o]m-m[=a]'[=o]). B[)e]th'[.a]ny. B[)e]th'l[=e]h[)e]m. Bethsaida (b[)e]th-s[=a]'[)i]-d[.a]). Bisticci, Vespasiano (v[)e]s-pae-z[=e]-ae'n[=o] b[=e]s-t[=e]t' ch[=e]). Bologna (b[=o]-l[=o]n'y[.a]). Borghini, Vicenzo (v[=e]-ch[)e]nd's[=o] bor-g[=e]'n[=e]). Botticelli (b[)o]t-t[=e]-ch[)e]l'l[=e]). Brescia (br[=a]'sh[=e]-ae). Brunelleschi (br[=oo]-n[)e]l-l[)e]s'k[=e]). Buonarroti (b[=oo]-[=o]-naer-r[=o]'t[=e]).

Cammina (kaem'm[=e]-nae). _cantoria_ (kaen-t[=o]-r[=e]'ae). Cappadocia (k[)a]p-[.a]-d[=o]'sh[)i]-ae). Carderara (kaer-d[=a]-rae'rae). Carrara (kaer-rae'rae). Carretto (kaer-r[)e]t't[=o]). Cavalucci (kae-vae-l[=oo]t'ch[=e]). Cleodolinda (kl[=e]-[)o]d-[=o]-l[)i]n'd[.a]). Colvin, Sidney (s[)i]d'n[)i] k[)o]l'v[)i]n). Correggio (kor-r[)e]d'j[=o]). _Cortile_ (k[=o]r-t[=e]'l[.=a]). Croce (kr[=o]'ch[=a]).

Della Robbia (d[)e]l'lae r[)o]b'b[=e]-ae). Didron (d[=e]-droN'). Diocletian (d[=i]-[=o]-kl[=e]'sh[)i]-[.a]n). D[=o]m[)i]n'[)i]c[.a]n. D[)o]m'[)i]n[)i]ck. D[=o]naet[)e]l'l[=o]. D[=o]nae't[=o].

Ecce ancilla Domini fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum ([)e]k'k[)e] aenk[=e]l'lae d[=o]'m[=e]-n[=e] f[=e]'aet m[.=e]'h[.=e] s[=a]k[=oo]n'd[=oo]m w[=a]r'b[=oo]m t[=oo]'[=oo]m). Ecco il Giovannino ([)e]k'k[=o] [=e]l j[=o]-vaen-n[=e]'n[=o]). Ego sum Lux Mundi ([)e]g'[=o] s[)oo]m l[=oo]x m[=oo]n'd[=e]). Elias ([=e]-l[=i]'[.a]s). Elisabeth ([=e]-l[)i]z'[.a]-b[)e]th). Eloi ([=a]-lwae'). _episcopus_ ([=a]-p[=e]'sk[=o]-p[)oo]s). Erasmo da Narni ([=a]-raes'm[=o] dae naer'n[=e]).

Fabretti (fae-br[)e]t't[=e]). Firenze (f[=e]-r[)e]nd's[.=a]). Florentine (flor'[)e]n-t[=e]n). Franciscan (fr[)a]n-s[)i]s'k[.a]n). Frati Minori (frae't[=e] m[=e]-n[=o]'r[=e]). Frati Predicatori (frae't[=e] pr[=a]-d[=e]-kae-t[=o]'r[=e]).

Galilee (g[)a]l'[)i]-l[=e]). Garda (gaer'dae). Gattamelata (gaet-tae-m[=a]-lae'tae). _genre_ (zhaeNr). Gonzaga (g[)o]nd-sae'gae). Gr[)e]g'[=o]r[)y]. Guinigi, Paolo (pae'[=o]-l[=o] gw[=e]-n[=e]'g[=e]).

H[)a]z'l[)i]tt. H[~e]r'm[=e][s+]. H[)e]r'[)o]d. Hewlett, Maurice (m[a:]'r[)i]s h[=u]'l[)e]t). Hieropolis (h[=i]-[=e]-r[)o]p'[=o]-l[)i]s). Hoefer (h[~e]'f[~e]r). Iconografia Espanola ([=e]-k[=o]-n[=o]-grae-f[=e]'ae [)e]s-paen-y[=o]'lae). Iconography ([=i]-k[=o]-n[)o]g'r[.a]-f[)i]). Ilaria ([=e]-lae'r[=e]-ae).

Jacopo della Quercia (yae'k[=o]-p[=o] d[)e]l'lae kw[)e]r'chae). Jor'd[.a]n. Jourdain (zh[=oo]r-d[)a]N'). Judaea (j[=u]-d[=e]'[.a]).

L[)e]g'horn. L[)i]b'[)y][.a]. Lisbon (l[)i]z'b[)u]n). Loggia (l[)o]d'jae). L[)o]m'b[.a]rd[)y]. Luca della Robbia (l[)oo]'kae d[)e]l'lae r[)o]b'b[=e]-ae). Lucca (l[=oo]k'kae).

Magnificat (m[)a]g-n[)i]f'[)i]-k[)a]t). _Mandorla_ (maen'dor-lae). Manetti, Antonio (aen-t[=o]'n[=e]-[=o] mae-n[)e]t't[=e]). Marcel-Reymond (maer-s[)e]l' r[=a]-moN'). Marzocco, Il ([=e]l maerd-s[)o]k'k[=o]). Medici (m[=a]'d[=e]-ch[=e]). Michaud (m[=e]-sh[=o]'). Michelangelo (m[=e]-k[)e]l-aen'j[.=a]-l[=o]). Milan (m[)i]l'[.a]n or m[)i]-l[)a]n'). Mino da Fiesole (m[=e]'n[=o] dae f[=e]-[=a]'s[=o]-l[.=a]). Molinier (m[=o]-l[=e]-n[=e]-[=a]'). Murate (m[=oo]-rae't[.=a]). Murillo (m[=oo]-r[=e]l'y[=o]).

Nanni di Banco (naen'n[=e] d[=e] baen'k[=o]). N[=a]th[)a]n'[.=a][)e]l. N[)a]z'[.a]r[)e]th. Niccolo (n[=e]-k[=o]-l[=o]').

Or San Michele (or saen m[=e]-k[)a]'l[.=a]).

P[)a]d'[=u][.a]. Palazzo Vecchio (pae-laet's[=o] v[)e]k'k[=e]-[=o]). P[=a]'t[~e]r. Petronio (p[=a]-tr[=o]'n[=e]-[=o]). Phrygia (fr[)i]j'[)i][.a]).

Piazza (p[=e]-aet'sae). Piccinino, Niccolo (n[=e]-k[=o]-l[=o]' p[=e]t-ch[=e]-n[=e]'n[=o]). _pietra serena_ (p[=e]-[=a]'trae s[=a]-r[=a]'nae). Pisa (p[=e]'zae). Pistoja (p[=e]s-t[=o]'yae). Planche (plaeN-sh[=a]'). Pollaiuolo (p[=o]l-lae-y[=oo]-[=o]'l[=o]). Portogallo, Jacopo di (yae'k[=o]-p[=o] d[=e] p[=o]r-t[=o]-gael'l[=o]). P[=o]rt'[=u]g[.a]l. Pr[)a]x'[)e]d. Pre-Raphaelite (pr[=e]-rae'f[=a]-[)e]l-[=i]t).

Raphael (rae'f[=a]-[)e]l). Rea (r[=a]). Rembrandt (r[)e]m'br[)a]nt). Renaissance (r[~e]-n[=a]s-saeNs'). _ringhiera_ (r[=e]n-g[=e]-[=a]'rae). Romola (r[)o]m'[=o]-l[.a]). Rossellino (r[)o]s-s[)e]l-l[=e]'n[=o]). Rossetti (r[)o]s-s[)e]t't[=e]).

Sabatier (sae-bae-t[=e]-[=a]'). Salutati, Leonardo (l[=a]-[=o]-naer'd[=o] sae-l[=oo]-tae't[=e]). San Miniato (saen m[=e]-n[=e]-ae't[=o]). Scythia (s[)i]th'[)i]-[.a]). Sforza (sf[=o]rd'sae). Siena (s[=e]-[=a]'nae). Signor (s[=e]n'y[=o]r). Signory (s[=e]n'y[=o]-r[)i]). S[=i]l[=e]'n[=e]. Spedale degli Innocenti (sp[)a]-dae'l[=a] d[=a]'ly[=e] [=e]n-n[=o]-ch[=a]n't[=e]). St[)i]g'm[.a]tae. Symonds (s[)i]m'[)u]ndz). Syndics (s[)i]n'd[)i]x).

T[)i]l'l[)i]ng-h[)a]st. Titian (t[)i]sh'[.a]n). T[)u]s'c[.a]n[)y].

Vasari (vae-sae'r[=e]). Via de' Leoni (v[=e]'ae d[=a] l[=a]-[=o]'n[=e]).

Zacharias (z[)a]k-[.a]-r[=i]'[.a]s). Zuccone (ds[=oo]k-k[=o]'n).