[174] The existence of this supposed younger Foppa, and the date
1492 (rather than 1502) must be considered doubtful in view of the
researches published by C. J. Ffoulkes in the _Athenæum_, February 15,
1902.
[175] "Velazquez has left a great number of striking pictures, each
containing a single figure. The Count de Pourtalès, in the collection
at Paris (from which this picture was bought in 1865), has an
excellent specimen of one of these studies, called 'The Dead Orlando'"
(Stirling's _Annals of the Artists of Spain_, 1848, p. 680). Other
authorities ascribe the picture to Valdes Leal (see 1291).
[176] Among other points we may notice the beautiful landscape;
"Nothing can be more perfect in pictorial effect than the old wall, the
distant roofs, the gleams of light on water, and the exquisite tones of
gray" (Gilbert's _Landscape in Art_, p. 263).
[177] It may be interesting to note what Raphael's method actually was.
He writes to Count Baldassare Castiglione, in a complimentary way:
"To paint a beautiful woman, I must see several, with this condition,
that your lordship be near me to select the loveliest. But there being
a dearth both of good judges and of beautiful women, I make use of a
certain idea that comes into my mind. Whether with benefit to art, I
know not; but I strive to form such an ideal in my mind."
[178] Readers of Ruskin will remember the high praise accorded to
Richter's illustrations of the Lord's Prayer and other engravings in
_The Elements of Drawing_.
[179] See their _Vittore Carpaccio et la Confrérie de Sainte Ursule_,
pp. 9-10, and _Vittore Carpaccio, Le Vite e le Opere_.
[180] Raphael was born in 1483. In 1491 his mother died.
[181] "Pisano's dragon is a pleasant-looking animal, wild-boar faced,
and smilingly showing his fangs, as he crouches by the eminently
gentlemanly St. George in the silver-plated and gilt armour; and a
word in passing must be said for the lovely hog, with a broad grin
overspreading his countenance, who accompanies the placid St. Anthony.
Is not St. George, in the broad Tuscan hat, the personification of John
Inglesant as _il Cavaliere di San Giorgio_?" (S. Beale in _Good Words_,
July 1895).
[182] "A splendid example of the naïve humour of the painter. There
is the father, somewhat sly, and the eldest son resembling him but
less 'cute. The next head is that of a jolly, sandy-haired fellow.
Then comes the reprobate, with a sensual upper lip, the only one
in the family; all the others have thin, long slit mouths, as well
as long straight noses. Behind, are the poor relations. We see the
good, hard-working cousin, who has found life too much for him; the
self-approving fellow, who thanks God he is not as other men are;
and above him the man who, if he has been saved from committing some
terrible crime, certainly owes his exemption to God's mercy, not, we
may be sure, to his own strength of will. On the other side are the
ladies of the family. The severe mamma, with flat brow, a veritable
Mrs. Grundy. The daughter, evidently a worldling by the jewelled band
round her forehead, is praying, because it is the business of the
moment. The easy-going maiden above her has taken to religious life
because it affords her a certain amount of distinction, with a little
soul-saving. Behind, is the old great-aunt, a really pious soul, who
has adopted conventual life from a devout conviction that she could
live better and do more good as a member of a community than dwelling
in the world. Above, are two fat-faced children, both more or less
bored; and behind them is another, fascinated by the jewels of her
kinswomen" (S. Beale in _Good Words_, July 1895).
[183] See Richter's _Italian Art in the National Gallery_, p. 44,
where a résumé of recent criticism and a facsimile of the Albertina
drawing will be found. Signor Frizzoni, cited with approval by
Richter, says: "Although the composition seems to me not in the
least attractive, nor even successful (and for this very reason the
picture might have been left unfinished), yet I cannot but consider
it to be an original, and, moreover, a specially interesting one,
and worthy of being looked at closely by those who wish to study
the master in the numerous characteristic features of his style.
In my opinion it is an early work by him; and this becomes evident
especially from the purity and delicacy in the features of one of the
Maries, standing on the right side, in which, if I am not mistaken,
the pure types of his first master, Domenico Ghirlandaio, are much
more perceptible than Buonarroti's own grand style. In other parts,
however, the sculpturesque manner of modelling peculiar to him is
not less noticeable--in the muscles, sturdy as usual, and in the
prominent rendering of the corpse." Symonds, on the other hand, has
no hesitation in rejecting the picture. "It is," he says, "painful to
believe that at any period of his life Michelangelo could have produced
a composition so discordant, so unsatisfactory in some anatomical
details, so feelingless and ugly. It bears indubitable traces of his
influence; that is apparent in the figure of the dead Christ. But this
colossal nude, with the massive chest and attenuated legs, reminds us
of his manner in old age; whereas the rest of the picture shows no
trace of that manner. I am inclined to think that the Entombment was
the production of a second-rate craftsman, working upon some design
made by Michelangelo at the advanced period when the Passion of our
Lord occupied his thoughts in Rome. Even so, the spirit of the drawing
must have been imperfectly assimilated; and, what is more puzzling, the
composition does not recall the style of Michelangelo's old age. The
colouring, so far as we can understand it, rather suggests Pontormo"
(_The Life of Michelangelo_, 1893, i. 68). Sir Edward Poynter, on the
other hand, will hear of no doubt: "There is," he says, "no doubt
whatever that this picture is the work of the great master. The
originality of the composition, the magnificent dignity of the poses,
the perfection of the modelling, combined with the profound knowledge
and subtle play of the anatomical forms where the work is complete,
and the exquisite beauty of the drapery, all stamp it as a work which,
if completed, would have been one of the masterpieces of the world,
and possible to no one but the great master of design. It is thought
desirable to insist on the grand qualities of this picture, because it
has been ascribed to Bandinelli, a bombastic sculptor, quite incapable
either of the refinement or of the subtle feeling for nature which
is evident in all the finished portions of this work" (_The National
Gallery_, i. 72).
[184] According to one of the dramatic critics in the daily press, Sir
Henry Irving in playing _Richelieu_ was made up to resemble closely
this picture; and (added the critic) the actor brought out the three
sides of Richelieu's character here depicted. "At times we see him as
the pitiless, unscrupulous man who forced himself from obscurity to a
power greater than his monarch's; at others we see the fine courteous
gentleman who patronised literature, founded the French Academy, and
collaborated in half a dozen bad plays; and there is also not a little
of the paltry, small-minded tyrant of whom Corneille said--
Il m'a trop fait de bien pour en dire du mal.
Il m'a trop fait de mal pour en dire du bien."
[185] See Morelli's _German Galleries_, p. 393. He dismisses the idea
of an original Vicentine School as one which "cannot be entertained at
all."
[186] "By Gentile Bellini, and not by Giovanni, as stated in the
Catalogue. The latter artist drew the ear of a different shape than did
his brother Gentile" (Morelli: _German Galleries_, p. 10 _n._). If by
Gentile, the signature is forged or altered.
[187] "I subjoin," writes the poet to his mother (December 23, 1880),
"a sonnet I have done on the Michelangelo in the National Gallery. In
this picture the Virgin is withdrawing from the child the book which
contains the prophecy of his sufferings--I suppose that of Isaiah. The
idea is a most beautiful one; and behind the group are angels perusing
a scroll. Shields was helpful to me in the interpretation of this"
(_Letters and Memoir_, ii. 365).
[188] Signed Joannes Bellini, but by some critics ascribed to Gentile
Bellini. See Frizzoni's _Arte Italiana del Rinascimento_, p. 314.
[189] To the same effect, Sir Edward Poynter: "The painting of the
green forest is the most perfectly beautiful piece of workmanship that
ever was put into a picture" (_Lectures on Art_, p. 128).
[190] But see note on No. 53.
[191] "Unfortunately, Hobbema has allowed some one, apparently
Wyntrank, to put a few ducks into the foreground. They are not wanted,
and the manipulation required to fit them in has caused the lower
part of the picture to darken disagreeably" (Armstrong: _Notes on the
National Gallery_, p. 38).
[192] Ruskin speaks of him as an artist "first-rate in an inferior
line" (_On the Old Road_, i. 558).
[193] Some of Mr. Gladstone's purchases for the National Gallery are
noticed in the introduction to Appendix II. The "Ansidei Madonna" was
also purchased by a special vote when he was in power. The Gallery owes
the present picture to Mr. Disraeli's taste. "I happened," says Sir
William Fraser in his _Disraeli and his Day_, "to be at the saleroom
in King Street: the crowd was considerable. A picture was on the easel
for sale; I did not know the name of the painter: the subject, 'The
Nativity,' of the pre-Raphaelite school. I was so charmed with it that
I bid up to two thousand pounds. I then felt that I could not trust my
judgment further: that I might be mistaken: and that the picture might
be 'run up' for trade purposes. It was bought for £2415. A few days
afterwards I met Mr. C. Having noticed him in the crowd, I said, 'Do
you happen to know who bought that "Francesca"?' 'I did. Disraeli told
me to buy it for the National Gallery.'"
[194] The fondness of the Old Masters for the brute creation is
illustrated in this picture, as in so many others. The ox is evidently
fascinated by the music; the ass is disturbed and brays fiercely. Note
also the goldfinch upon the roof.
[195] "The painter must, for the present, remain as an unknown Umbrian,
almost equally influenced by Pinturicchio and Signorelli, and with
peculiar qualities of simple grace and romance, which give his work an
extremely individual character" (Cruttwell's _Signorelli_, p. 117).
[196] English readers will find some account, with occasional
translations, of Poliziano's poem in Symonds's _Sketches and Studies in
Italy and Greece_, ii. 334, and _Renaissance_, iv. 350. Symonds, had
already remarked that much of the poem is like a picture of Botticelli.
The same painter's "Birth of Venus" may have been suggested by stanza
99 of Poliziano, though the peculiar sentiment of that famous picture
is the painter's own. See also under 916.
[197] "We venture to ask," says Dr. Richter, "is this really an Italian
picture?" (_Italian Art in the National Gallery_, p. 87).
[198] The figures are by Tiepolo (see under 1192).
[199] Visitors who have been to Venice will remember that "Carpaccio
trusts for the chief splendour of any _festa_ in cities to the patterns
of the draperies hung out of windows" (_Bible of Amiens_, p. 3).
[200] Or, according to Mr. Berenson, of Alvise Vivarini and Lotto (see
his _Lorenzo Lotto_, pp. 113, 304).
[201] It was exhibited at the "Old Masters" exhibition in 1873 as a
Raphael. Mr. Ruskin, who had noticed it there, wrote to Mr. Fairfax
Murray, "Please look at the Raphael, and tell me how far the colour may
have changed on St. John's shoulder and in Judas' dress, and how far
the fantastic shot silks of this last are absolutely as they were."
[202] It is a repetition with but slight variations of the Medici
picture in the Uffizi.
[203] "The early Italian masters felt themselves so indebted to, and
formed by, the master-craftsman who had mainly disciplined their
fingers, whether in work on gold or marble, that they practically
considered him their father, and took _his_ name rather than their
own; so that most of the great Italian workmen are now known, not by
their own names, but by those of their masters (or of their native
towns or villages--these being recognised as masters also), the master
being himself often entirely forgotten by the public, and eclipsed by
his pupil; but immortal _in_ his pupil, and named in his name.... All
which I beg you to take to heart and meditate on concerning Mastership
and Pupilage" (_Fors Clavigera_, 1872, xxii. 3, 4). Vasari's story may
be true, says Dr. Richter, "even though no contemporary record of a
goldsmith called Botticello has been found. We know, however, that he
had a brother, Giovanni Battista, a carpenter and frame-maker of some
repute, nicknamed _Botticegli_, _i.e._ 'Little Barrel'; this nickname
may have been inherited by the younger brother" (_Lectures on the
National Gallery_, p. 48).
[204] See Richter's _Lectures on the National Gallery_ for the list, p.
46.
[205] Reference may be made also to Mr. Swinburne's "Notes on Designs
of the Old Masters at Florence" (first published in the _Fortnightly
Review_ for July 1868), in which he speaks of "the faint and almost
painful grace which gives a distinct value and curious charm to all
the works of Botticelli." At an auction in 1867 D. G. Rossetti picked
up a Botticelli for £20. "If he had not something to do," writes his
brother, "with the vogue which soon afterwards began to attach to that
fascinating master, I am under a misapprehension." Pater's essay first
appeared in the _Fortnightly Review_ of August 1870. Ruskin's first
mention of Botticelli was in a lecture delivered at Oxford during the
Lent Term, 1871. Carpaccio had been proclaimed in a lecture of the
preceding year, and it became a standing joke among the profane to ask
who was Ruskin's last "greatest painter." It was in answer thereto that
Mr. Bourdillon wrote:
To us this star or that seems bright,
And oft some headlong meteor's flight
Holds for awhile our raptured sight.
But he discerns each noble star;
The least is only the most far,
Whose worlds, may be, the mightiest are.
[206] "The dress appears to have been originally crimson or pink. If
so, it has faded to so agreeable a tone that one could hardly wish it
otherwise" (Poynter).
[207] The visitor should contrast Canaletto's painting of still water
with Turner's (see under 535).
[208] "Upon asking how he had been taught the art of a _cognoscento_
so very suddenly, he assured me that nothing was more easy. The whole
secret consisted in a strict adherence to two rules: the one, always
to observe that the picture might have been better if the painter had
taken more pains; and the other to praise the works of Pietro Perugino"
(_Vicar of Wakefield_, ch. xx.).
[209] The author of the catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club's
Exhibition of 1898 maintains that the two side panels are later in date
than the central panel, and have no connection with it (p. xxxvii.).
[210] Sir Walter Armstrong attributes No. 1079 to David. "The National
Gallery possesses one of the best of David's authenticated works
(1045), and a comparison between it and the "Adoration of the Magi,"
numbered 1079, goes far to prove them to be by one hand. Compare, for
instance, the figure of the beggar in the one picture with that of St.
Joseph in shadow behind the Virgin, in the other. And the evidence of
style is confirmed by a curious discovery that I happened to make one
bright day, when the glass was off the latter picture. Low down in the
left-hand corner the word OUVVATER is written in a way that precludes
the notion of forgery, for it has been scratched with, perhaps, the
butt end of a brush, while the paint was still wet, so that the red
under-painting shows through the letters. David was born at Ouwater, or
Oudewater, about 1450, and did not migrate to Bruges till 1484" (_Notes
on the National Gallery_, p. 29).
[211] See Morley's _Diderot_, ii. 62. "Yet he cannot refuse to concede
about one of Boucher's pictures that after all he would be glad to
possess it. Every time you saw it, he says, you would find fault
with it, yet you would go on looking at it. This is perhaps what the
severest modern amateur, as he strolls carelessly through the French
school at his leisure, would not in his heart care to deny."
[212] Ruskin speaks under the head of typical beauty (of beauty, that
is, as typical of divine attributes) of the absolute necessity in
pictures for some suggestion of infinity. "Escape, Hope, Infinity, by
whatever conventionalism sought, the device is the same in all, the
instinct constant" (_Modern Painters_, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. i. ch. v.
§§ 7, 8).
[213] Ruskin finds Leonardo's landscape unconvincing. "In realisation
of detail he verges on the ornamental; in his rock outlines he has all
the deficiencies and little of the feeling of the earlier men. The
rocks are grotesque without being ideal, and extraordinary without
being impressive." "The forms of rock in Leonardo's celebrated 'Vierge
aux Rochers' are literally no better than those on a china plate"
(_Modern Painters_, vol. i. pt. ii. sec. i. ch. vii. § 13; Edinburgh
_Lectures on Architecture and Painting_, p. 157). A high authority
on the Alpine region, Mr. Douglas Freshfield, has suggested that the
originals of Leonardo's backgrounds are to be found among the mountains
between Val Sassina and the Lago di Lecco: "The last spurs of the Alps
are here singularly picturesque. The bold forms of the Corno di Canzo
and Monte Baro break down to display the shining pools of the Laghi
di Pusiano and d' Annone. Hither Leonardo may have come, and looking
across the narrow lake or from beside some smaller pool or stream at
the stiff upright rocks of the Grigna and the Resegone, have conceived
the strange backgrounds with which we are all familiar" (_Italian
Alps_, 1875, p. 126). Mr. Freshfield's suggestion is borne out by
Leonardo's own topographical notes, since published. He had visited the
district and specially remarks upon its fantastic rocks.
[214] When in the Hamilton Collection, this picture was ascribed to
Giorgione. Some critics strongly dispute the ascription (see, _e.g._,
Richter's _Italian Art in the National Gallery_, p. 87), others accept
it (see, _e.g._, an article in the _Times_, July 26, 1882). Sir
Edward Poynter says: "The qualities of colour and painting in this
picture so closely resemble those of the famous 'Fête Champêtre' by
Giorgione in the Louvre, that it is difficult not to believe that the
two pictures are by the same hand, and that, if the Louvre picture is
rightly named, the original attribution to Giorgione may be correct"
(_National Gallery_, i. 24). Mr. Herbert Cook is of the same opinion:
"The figures, with their compactly built and rounded limbs, are such as
Giorgione loved to model, the sweep of draperies and the splendid line
indicate a consummate master, the idyllic landscape is just such as we
see in the Louvre picture and elsewhere, the glow and splendour of the
whole reveal a master of tone and colouring" (_Giorgione_, p. 94). As
an illustration of the uncertainty of criticism it may be interesting
to append the observations on Sir E. Poynter's remarks made by a writer
in the _Daily Telegraph_ of Dec. 29, 1899: "In reality no two works
belonging to more or less the same period of Venetian art could be
more utterly different. The Hamilton Palace picture is a soulless and
second-rate production, dating a good many years later than the Louvre
idyll, wholly different from it in handling, and remarkable only for
its beautiful golden tone. The Louvre 'Fête Champêtre'--a late example
of the divine master--is one of the loveliest and most characteristic
pieces produced in the early prime of Venetian painting. Should the
'Venus and Adonis' be set down to Giorgione, the misrepresentation in
the National Gallery of a unique figure in art would be complete."
[215] By Mr. Berenson to "Amico di Sandro."
[216] "The figures are ill-proportioned and want expression and
character. They are more probably by a scholar or imitator" (Layard's
_Kugler_, vol. i. p. 289).
[217] Critics of the modern school assert that the picture was not
executed by Botticelli, even if it was designed by him; it bears,
they say, "no trace of his style" (see, _e.g._, Richter's _Lectures_
and Frizzoni's _Arte Italiana del Rinascimento_). Ruskin was on the
same side: "I hope you know Botticelli well enough," he wrote to Mr.
Fairfax Murray (February 14, 1873), "not to think you'll have to copy
stuff like that arms-akimbo thing. By the way, what have they all got,
like truncheons? They look like a lot of opera-directors." Dr. Uhlmann
in his work on Botticelli ascribes the picture to Botticini; Vasari,
he thinks, confused the two painters,--a theory for which there is
no sort of proof. There is only one work of Botticini which has been
identified with certainty. It is at Empoli, and was executed in 1490,
or fifteen years at least before this picture. Vasari's account is
precise, and is confirmed, as we have seen, by historical records. Very
convincing internal proofs are necessary to overthrow this external
evidence. Where are such proofs? The idea of the picture is entirely
in accordance with what we know of Botticelli. "The wonderful energy
of the angels and the boldness of the design attest his invention"
(Monkhouse's _In the National Gallery_, p. 64). The case in this sense
is very well put by Mr. Maurice Hewlett in the _Academy_ of January 9,
1892. He points out among other things that the picture agrees with the
general spirit of Botticelli's designs for the "Paradiso."
[218] Some account of the poem is given in an appendix to vol. v. of
Symonds's _Renaissance in Italy_.
[219] The traveller will find a convenient handbook to these frescoes
in Mr. J. L. Bevir's _Visitor's Guide to Orvieto_.
[220] It came from the Hamilton sale (1882), and was bought for the
small price of £157:10s.
[221] Owing to the similarity of initials IVO the picture was ascribed
by its former owner to Isaac van Ostade, who, however, died in 1649.
[222] Materials for such comparison--which is not the least interesting
of the many lines of study offered by a collection of pictures--are
provided in Mrs. Jameson's books, or may be formed still better by
every student for himself by a collection of photographs. A capital
series of articles by Mr. Grant Allen in the _Pall Mall Magazine_ of
1895 traced, in a few of the most popular subjects, the process of
"Evolution in Early Italian Art."
[223] Visitors to Venice will remember a beautiful use of this
arrangement on the southern side of the Rialto, the Dove forming the
keystone of the arch.
[224] A piece of paper of the last century, glued to the back of this
panel, contains a memorandum in now faded ink, in the handwriting of
the great-grandfather of Signor G. Molfini (from whom the picture
was bought in Genoa in 1883), to the following effect:--"Antonello
of Messina, a city of Sicily, a famous painter.... And this is his
portrait, painted by himself, as was to be seen by an inscription below
it which I, in order to reduce it (_i.e._ the picture) to a better
shape, sawed away." Some traces of further writing are now illegible.
[225] Ford Madox Brown, who was not one to be impressed by any
authority, has some very scathing remarks on this picture: "Bad in
colour, in drawing, in grouping, and in expression, with the figure of
Jesus falling on its nose, this work seems to shine solely by reason of
the varnish with which it has recently been so polished up" (_Magazine
of Art_, 1890, p. 135).
[226] He enumerates them in an official return of his property:
"Further, I have a monkey, moreover, a raven which can talk, and which
I keep by me in order that he may teach from his cage a theological
jackass also to speak. Item: an owl to frighten the witches, two
peacocks, two dogs, a sparrow-hawk, and other birds of prey, six fowls,
eighteen chickens, two moor-fowl, and many other birds, to name all of
which would only cause confusion."
[227] According to Nonius Marcellus: "By old Roman law, brides used to
bring three _asses_ (pennies), and to give one, which they held in the
hand, to the bridegroom, as though to purchase him; to place another,
which they held in the foot, on the hearth of the family Lares; and to
put the third in their pocket and rattle it at the next cross-road."
[228] See, however, for some deductions afterwards made from this
estimate, _ibid._ vol. iv. pt. v. ch. iii. §§ 6, 7.
[229] Elsewhere Ruskin makes some exception in favour of Ary Scheffer:
"Though one of the heads of the Mud sentiment school, he does
_draw_ and _feel_ very beautifully and deeply" (_Letters on Art and
Literature_, p. 37).
[230] It was placed in their chapel in the church of S. Lorenzo in that
city. There it remained till 1764, when it was bought for the Duke of
Marlborough, and a copy replaced the original in the chapel.
[231] This picture and Van Dyck's "Charles the First" (1172) were
bought in 1884 from the Duke of Marlborough for £87,500. Sir F. Burton,
the Director of the National Gallery, had valued them at £115,500 and
£31,500 severally. I remember once hearing Mr. Gladstone refer to this
matter. His economic conscience seemed to give him some qualms on the
score of the unprecedented price. But he took comfort in the fact
that, large as was the price actually paid, the price asked by the
owner, as also the valuation of the Director, was very much larger.
"At any rate," he said with a smile, "I saved the taxpayers £45,000
on this Raphael, by not listening to the advice of the Director of
the Gallery." The purchase had been pressed upon the Government by
all sorts and conditions of men. The Royal Academy memorialised Mr.
Gladstone, and pleaded especially for the Raphael--"a work produced in
that happy period in which the reverent purity and the serene grace
of the master's earliest work are already mellowing into the fuller
dignity of his middle style." The Trustees of the National Gallery
declared that the purchase would at once raise the Collection to a
rank second to none, and superior to most, of the great Continental
Galleries; whilst a memorial from members of Parliament of all parties,
after referring to the Raphael as the finest in point of colouring
that ever came from his hand, assured Mr. Gladstone that "their
constituents and the whole nation will approve and applaud" a departure
from "the hard line of severe economy." It appears from _The Life and
Correspondence of Mr. Childers_ (ii. 163), who was Chancellor of the
Exchequer at the time, that the purchase was first suggested by Queen
Victoria.
[232] Sir Edward Poynter. The luminous quality of the picture conquered
Mr. Ruskin. After one of his last visits to the National Gallery, he
said to me: "The new Raphael is certainly lovely--quite the loveliest
Raphael in the world. The 'San Sisto' is dark and brown beside it."
[233] In this matter of the open sky also the "Ansidei Madonna" is
curiously transitional. "Raphael," says Ruskin (_ibid._ § 10), "in
his fall, betrayed the faith he had received from his father and
his master, and substituted for the radiant sky of the Madonna del
Cardellino, the chamber-wall of the Madonna della Sediola, and the
brown wainscot of the Baldacchino." Here we have both--the Baldacchino
and the open sky behind.
[234] Mr. Monkhouse suggests alternative explanations. Who is the
figure on the throne? "Is he meant for some intellectual Dives,
learning too late that happiness exists not in luxury or knowledge? Is
he the poet, musing in sadness and mental solitude on the mysteries of
life, who cannot taste of its fruit or listen to its music, unconscious
of the brute forces symbolised by the panther, and the vanity of human
pride imaged by the peacock on the dead branch; or is he a philosopher
imparting wisdom to the young? What matter, the picture charms like
nature, because we cannot fathom it" (_In the National Gallery_, p.
234). In the case of Giorgione's frescoes at Venice, Vasari frankly
"gave it up": "I, for my part, have never been able to understand what
they mean, nor, with all the inquiries that I have made, could I ever
find any one who did understand, or could explain them to me." But the
theory that the subject in Renaissance pictures meant nothing--that
details were treated from a purely pictorial point of view--is, as Dr.
Richter has well observed, more convenient than correct. The clue to
many of these unknown subjects is to be found in classical or Italian
literature. Bellini's allegorical compositions have recently been thus
interpreted. Titian's so-called "Sacred and Profane Love" has been
identified by Herr Franz Wickhoff as an illustration of the story of
Medea as told in the seventh book of the _Argonautica_ of Valerius
Flaccus, and the same author has also found the key to several works
ascribed to Giorgione.
[235] Dr. Richter, who found these pictures in a Veronese palace,
points out that the architecture in the background represents the old
tower of the castle of Mantua (_Art Journal_, Feb. 1895). It has,
however, been urged amongst other objections that the eagle on the
banners belongs to neither of the two houses. Perhaps, therefore, the
subject of the pictures is purely imaginary or borrowed from some
romance of the time.
[236] See note on No. 591.
[237] One portrait, however, was found by Mr. Petrie, not fixed over
the face of the mummy, but framed and glazed for hanging on the wall
of a tomb. The frame, now in the British Museum, is very like what is
called an "Oxford frame."
[238] Two other members of the family are known as painters--Ambrosius,
brother of the younger Hans; and Sigmund, brother of the elder. A
portrait ascribed to the latter is in our Gallery, No. 722.
[239] The picture is painted on ten boards joined vertically; and it is
interesting to speculate how far the composition may have been directed
by the necessity of avoiding any joint in the faces.
[240] _Cf._ what Ruskin says of "the glorious severity" of Holbein's
portraits (_Modern Painters_, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. 1. ch. xiv. § 19).
[241] The contrast between the picture as it was before being cleaned
and as it is now is very great. The accessories have come out in
astonishing clearness, and the crucifix in the left-hand corner has
been unveiled. The dingy green of the curtain background has given
place to a rich damask, and the gown of the younger man--which Wornum
described as "brownish green"--is now seen to be not green at all. Mr.
Dyer, to whose art this successful restoration was due, removed the
obscuring dirt and varnish entirely by manual friction.
[242] Several pages would be required to give a _résumé_ of all the
theories propounded, and of all the _pros_ and _cons_ in each case.
An account of the principal theories was given in the fourth edition
of this Handbook, and the story forms an entertaining chapter in
the curiosities of criticism. The most elaborately sustained of the
theories is that which identifies the "ambassadors" with the Counts
Palatine Otto Henry and his brother Philip (see the monograph on the
picture by W. F. Dickes).
[243] The following is the text of the document:--
Remarques sur le suject d'un tableau excellent des Srs.
d'Inteville Polizy, et de George de Selve.[244]
En ce tableau est representé au naturel Messire Jean de D
Intevile chevalier sieur de Polizy près de Bar-sur-seyne Bailly
de Troyes, qui fut Ambassadeur en Angleterre pour le Roy
François premier ez années 1532 & 1533 & de puis Gouverneur
de Monsieur Charles de France second filz diceluy Roy, le
quel Charles mourut a forest monstier en l'an 1545, & le dict
sr. de D Intevile en l'an 1555, sepulturé en l'eglise du dict
Polizy. Est aussi representé audict tableau Messire George de
Selve Evesque de Lavaur personnage de grandes lettres & fort
vertueux, & qui fut Ambassadeur pres de L Empereur Charles
cinquiesme, le diet Evesque Filz de Messire Jean de Selve
premier president au parlement de Paris, iceluy sr. Evesque
decedé en l'an 1541 ayant des la susdicte année 1532 ou 1533
passé en Angleterre par permission du Roy pour visiter le
susdict sieur de D Intevile son intime amy & de toute sa
famile, & eux deux ayantz rencontrez en Angleterre un excellent
peinctre holandois, l'employèrent pour faire iceluy tableau qui
a esté soigneusement conservé au mesme lieu de Polizy iusques
en l'an 1653.
[244] Evesque de Lavour (_sic_) contenant leurs emplois, et tems de
leur deceds.
[245] The words in the choir-book are thus identified by Mr. Eastlake
(see a very interesting letter to the _Times_, 17th August 1891).