CHAPTER XII.

GIOTTO'S LATER WORK AT FLORENCE.

"The characteristics of Power and Beauty occur more or less in

different buildings, some in one and some in another; but all

together, and all in their highest possible relative degrees,

they exist, as far as I know, only in one building in the

world, the Campanile of Giotto."--JOHN RUSKIN, _The Seven

Lamps_.

The later work of Giotto at Florence falls into two distinct

divisions, the one consisting of his frescoes and his great panel

picture of the _Coronation of the Virgin_, the other of his sculpture

and architecture, both of which last have as their sole remaining

example, the Campanile, in the Piazza del Duomo, better known as

"Giotto's tower." The limits of my space compel me to speak very

briefly upon each of these divisions, which I regret the less because

they are by far the best known and most frequently written about of

Giotto's works; and when Mr. Ruskin has put forth his whole strength

in description, an inferior writer may be well pardoned for

unwillingness to make his inferiority manifest. With this brief word

of apology then, I speak first of the frescoes in the Santa Croce.

Giotto painted four chapels here, but the only remaining frescoes are

those in the chapels of the Peruzzi and the Bardi, the former

containing scenes from the lives of St. John the Evangelist and St.

John the Baptist, the latter representations of the life and death of

St. Francis. Both these chapels have suffered a good deal from

restoration, especially that of the Bardi, which has been so coarsely

repainted as to have entirely lost all beauty of colour, and which I

shall not therefore dwell upon in detail.

The top fresco on the right hand wall of the Peruzzi Chapel, has also

been quite ruined by coarse repainting, and when examined with a good

glass shows a coarse black line round every portion of the

composition, not unlike that used by the disciples of a certain modern

school of decorative painting, who seek to gain the effect which their

incompetence otherwise denies them by outlining their compositions in

this manner.

The two lower frescoes on the right hand wall, however, representing

respectively the Healing of Drusiana by St. John, and the Ascension

from the grave of that Evangelist, though they have been a good bit

restored, have had the restoration, carefully and sparingly done, and

retain still a beauty of colour as great as is to be found in any of

Giotto's works. The chief differences observable between these

frescoes and those of the earlier years are such as we might expect to

find in the later work of an earnest painter, and are briefly as

follows:--First, a loss of the semi-burlesque spirit observable in the

Arena Chapel, and not wholly absent from the four great frescoes of

the Lower Church at Assisi. All is grave and dignified in treatment;

the action proceeds in a still vivid, but not eager, manner; it is the

difference between the _Stabat Mater_ played on the organ, and "The

Campbells are coming," on the bagpipes of a Highland regiment. Allied

to this change, and dependent upon it, is the loss of a good deal of

the incidental drama of the composition, a certain diminution of

interest in the spectators, who are now more parts of the general

scene, and less individual characters affected in different ways by

what is happening. The composition gains, perhaps, in dramatic unity,

gains certainly if judged by the canons of later art, but loses in

dramatic intensity, and, it seems to me, in truth to life. Again,

there is much more composition, and that of a more elaborate kind,

than in the Arena work: the figures are larger proportionately to the

fresco in which they are placed, and possessed of a uniform grace and

dignity which were absent from the earlier frescoes. Increased

knowledge of form and power of arrangement, is seen in the figures of

the men, and the treatment of the draperies; the latter especially,

while still being drawn with comparative breadth and simplicity, have

gained in beauty of line, and slightly in attention to the form

beneath them. Lastly, there is to be noticed an advance in the

treatment of colour which is the most important of all the changes. It

is with the greatest diffidence I speak upon this point, as it is

nearly impossible, in the dim light of this chapel (whose only window

is covered with a yellow curtain), to be sure of what is the painter's

original work and what is restoration; but while making every

allowance for error, it seems to me that there is here shown, in

places where the work is almost certainly genuine, a great increase in

the power of gradation of colour, a capability of making each portion

more beautiful in itself, besides being beautiful as a part of the

whole. There is not found in these frescoes (in the Peruzzi), any

longer those broad masses of comparatively ungradated tint which are

so common in the Arena series; and there is further to be found an

extension of the scale of colouring, a power of combining more

delicate and more varied hues than in the earlier frescoes.

The whole tone of the picture is sharper and more mellow than before,

and though this is by no means an unmixed gain, for much of the

crystalline purity and freshness of the earlier pictures is lost

thereby, yet on the whole the gain is greater than the loss, much in

the same way that though we may regret the absence of the bright eye

and ardent impetuosity of youth, we must needs give greater honour to

manhood which has fulfilled the promise, though it may have lost

something of the freshness, of "the wild gladness of morning."

On the left hand wall of this chapel there are also three frescoes of

which the uppermost is of comparatively little importance; the

remaining two are--first, _The Birth of John_; second, _The Daughter

of Herodias dancing before Herod_. The lower of these is a good deal

faded, but (I believe) not at all restored, and both are of exceeding

beauty. In the first, the picture is divided into two parts by pillars

supporting the section of a house similar to those of which Giotto

generally formed his interiors. The larger portion of the fresco

represents the mother of the Evangelist lying upon her bed surrounded

by friends and attendants, and in the smaller part the nurse is

presenting the infant to the father, who is apparently deep in

thought. The figure of the nurse holding out the child, and all the

attendants and friends who press round the bed, are full of interest,

and the whole composition of the picture very fine.

More beautiful, however, to me, is the lowest fresco of Herodias, if

it were only for the figure of the violin (for it is a sort of violin)

player, a figure whose grace and truth of action has, I think, never

been surpassed.

In this picture the daughter of Herodias is represented twice, the

first time in the main body of the fresco, dancing in front of the

table at which the king is seated, while in the centre an attendant

brings in the Baptist's head upon a dish, and offers it to the king;

and again on the extreme right of the fresco, where, in a sort of

inner room, the dancer kneels to her mother, and presents her with the

head.

There are in the Bardi Chapel frescoes of Sta. Chiara and St. Louis,

also by Giotto; but both have been restored especially the

latter,[72] which is wholly ruined thereby. Formerly in the Baronzelli

Chapel, but now in a small room close to the sacristy, hangs the

greatest masterpiece of our artist upon panel; indeed the only one of

his works executed in that manner which can fairly be called worthy of

his powers.[73] This is the famous _Coronation of the Virgin_, a

picture in five compartments, the four outer ones of which represent a

choir of angels with various musical instruments, and an attendant

company of saints, prophets, and martyrs, while the centre division

shows the Virgin dressed as a bride seated upon a throne, and bending

her head to receive the crown from Christ.

It is wholly beyond my power to convey to my readers any idea of the

exceeding loveliness of this work, and no description could, I think,

give more than a faint shadow of its beauty. Descriptions of pictures

are stupid things at the best, and when the attempt is made to

describe a work whose beauty consists less in any hard tangible

perfection of form and colour, than in a delicate purity of feeling

and an intense belief in the subject treated of, when we have to

catalogue as beauties, the expressions of a choir of angels, and the

raptures of the surrounding saints, words seem totally inadequate to

the task.

Perhaps some faint idea of the picture may be gained by likening it to

the _Paradise_ of Fra Angelico, which hangs in the Uffizi Gallery, and

which is probably familiar to most of my readers, if only through the

medium of the innumerable copies which have been made of the figures

of the playing and singing angels which surround its frame. Fancy

these Angelico figures enlarged slightly and made human, instead of

angelic; fancy them arranged in rows, one above the other, the first

row kneeling, and the second standing behind them, while further in

the background, tier above tier, rise the heads of prophets and

martyrs almost to the top of the golden background. Put two pictures

of this sort on each side of a central one of _Christ and the Virgin_,

lower Fra Angelico's key of colour just a little, till his pinks,

blues, and yellows have shades of neutral colour toning them down, let

the types of the saints and angels be rather heavier in the jaw, and

broader in the face than his, and then you have the bones, so to

speak, of Giotto's _Coronation_.

More than this I cannot tell you of the beauty of this picture, and it

were useless to dwell upon the tender gravity of the singing angels,

the devotion of the listening saints, the exquisite balance of the

groups, and the pure brightness of the colouring. In a picture the

whole of whose effect depends upon such subtle combination of faith

and skill as does this _Coronation_, it is worse than useless to

attempt to catalogue its merits as if for an auctioneer's programme.

It is best to say, simply, that in a devotional age a great painter

put forth his whole strength, to embody his faith in the loveliest

design he could conceive, and that the result was worthy of him.

In the cloisters of the S. Maria Novella there are some frescoes

attributed to Giotto much injured by damp, and one, the _Birth of the

Virgin_, spoilt by restoration; one, however, remains, of great

beauty, which in its leading figures is as fine as any of Giotto's

work; this is the _Meeting of Joachim and Anna at the Golden Gate_.

The leading figures here are fortunately comparatively uninjured by

the damp, though Anna's blue robe has lost a little of its colour; the

faces are full of expression, tender and loving to a degree, and the

attitudes of both figures both graceful and natural. In this work the

painter has gained a nearer approach to female beauty than in any

other fresco which I have seen. After a long and careful examination

of these frescoes I am unwillingly forced to come to the conclusion

that they are not by Giotto, but are later works of his school. I say

unwillingly, for it is with the greatest reluctance that I differ on

this point from Mr. Ruskin, who has in one of his small series, called

_Mornings in Florence_, expatiated very enthusiastically upon the

merit of these works. The technical reasons which have most certainly

lead me to this conclusion can hardly be stated so as to interest the

general reader, but the main points which are evident upon the surface

of the matter are--1st, the comparative crudeness and poorness of

colour in three out of the four frescoes, a crudity which is scarcely

to be accounted for by any amount of restoration. The colour is not so

much violent as it is weak and uninteresting; 2nd, the exaggeration in

gesture never used by Giotto in subordinate figures, and a certain

wilful ugliness of attitude which I have never found in that painter's

works; 3rd, the difference in the drawing of the drapery, which is

sharp and thin in its folds, the folds being far more numerous than in

Giotto's work, and their angles much more abrupt. The last difference

is one of beauty. As far as I know Giotto was incapable of drawing a

face of the slender rounded type such as Anna's in the second of these

frescoes which I have referred to. Both the drawing of that face and

its delicate modelling belong to another and a later hand than his.

Lastly I may state for whatever it is worth, that I heard only a few

days since that it is probably the case, according to the best opinion

of the archæologists, that the cloister in which these frescoes are,

is of a later date than that of Giotto's death. If this be so of

course it sets the matter at rest, but whether it be so or not I think

a careful examination of the frescoes will satisfy any one

interested in the matter that they cannot fairly be attributed to our

artist. It must be remembered that the work of the Giotteschi, as they

are called, is exceedingly puzzling and confused and liable to be

mistaken very easily even by one who is devoting his whole attention

to the subject. Mr. Ruskin has in two former instances been led to

attribute works to Giotto which are not by that artist according to

almost indisputable evidence: the instances I allude to are, one in

speaking of the frescoes at Avignon as by this artist, the other in

attributing to him a picture now discovered to be by Lorenzo Monaco in

the Uffizi Gallery.

[Illustration: FLORENCE.

_Showing Giotto's Campanile, and the "Duomo."_]

THE CAMPANILE.

From my window _au troisième_, in the Piazza del Duomo, the look-out

this gray April afternoon cannot be called altogether gay. The sellers

of flowers and oranges have withdrawn well into the shelter of their

little awnings, through which the rain slowly trickles upon the bright

mass of fruit; in the great square, the restless population of

Florence move aimlessly to and fro with cloaks muffling their faces;

there are five close cabs stationed just beneath my window, the

drivers of which sit on their respective boxes, beneath the shelter of

four large green umbrellas and one blue one; behind them the

Baptistery lifts its conical roof by the side of the scaffolding which

marks the restoration of the cathedral, and beyond and above

everything the Campanile[74] in the square of the Signoria raises its

grim castellated head, dark and threatening. One building alone

refuses to succumb to the influences of cloud and rain, refuses to

lose its beauty or be deprived of its colours; its delicate traceries,

and its shades of red, yellow, black, white, and green marble still

standing out clearly perceptible through the heavy atmosphere. This is

the building with the account of which closes the story of Giotto's

life; this is the last and greatest achievement of that great genius

who joined to his skill of hand a heart tender enough to enter into

every human weakness, and sympathies which extended to the animal and

vegetable creation, and drew, with as much simple fidelity and honest

enjoyment the dog watching the sheep and the oxen drawing the wain, as

the sufferings of the Saviour, or the faith of the disciples.

In shape the Campanile is a square tower without buttress of any kind,

rising 292 feet straight from the pavement of the piazza. It has four

stories, but does not diminish towards the top, the only difference

being that the windows increase in size, and in this way an appearance

of superior lightness is gained by the upper stories. The style of the

architecture is Gothic in so far as it makes use of the pointed arch,

but can hardly be described as such without giving a false impression

to those who are accustomed to the Gothic of the north; and who think

of that style as one of varied, if somewhat gloomy, masses, of

irregular arches, pinnacles, and buttresses; colourless save for the

lichen that grows between the grey stones, and owing their beauty more

to the unwearied inventiveness of their builders' fancy than to any

symmetrical unity of design.

It seems to me that this Campanile, as does the cathedral, partakes

much more of the Lombardic element than the Gothic, especially in its

use of coloured marbles, which are here employed throughout the whole

surface of the tower. One thing is certain, that whatever be the style

of the architecture it has a character of its own which renders it a

thing apart. In the course of many years' travel in every quarter of

the globe, I have come upon but one building which had at all the same

sort of power over the imagination which is possessed by this tower of

Giotto. That structure was the Taj, at Agra, which in its

exquisiteness of finish, its delicacy of involved ornament, its

perfectly unsullied whiteness, and above all, in its completeness of

design, resembled the Florentine Campanile, though for beauty of

proportion, no less than for that of colour, the Indian tomb must

yield precedence to the Italian bell-tower. The Taj, too, owes much of

its effect to the beauty of its surroundings; to the stately entrance,

the long paved approach of white marble, the great daïs of the same,

on which the tomb stands, and last, not least, to thick rows of dark

cypress trees which surround it to right and left, and toss their

fretted spires towards the sky, a hundred feet below the great dome.

The Campanile has no such proud surroundings, no such adventitious

helps to its beauty, but stands in simple strength, in the busiest

square in Florence, in the midst of the fruit-sellers and

flower-sellers, where the street boys can play at hide-and-seek round

its base, and wonder idly perhaps at the inlaid marbles. In either

case the surroundings are such as one should be loth to change; for

the tomb which marks the pride and love of an Eastern monarch, the

quiet inclosed garden, with its marble terraces and clustering groups

of cypress; and for the Campanile--which was the last gift of a great

artist to his native city--the busy square, the thronging people, the

hundred cries of Florence sounding about its base, and fading into a

faint scarce-heard murmur long ere they reach the great overhanging

battlements, round whose massive sculpture resound only the whispering

of the breeze and the fluttering of white-winged birds.

The building is in four stories, the two lowest of which are entirely

without windows, the first being adorned with bas-reliefs by Giotto,

and with statues by Donatello and others. Intermediate between the

lowest series of bas-reliefs and the statues, are four series of

bas-reliefs, each seven in number, representing the beatitudes, the

works of mercy, the virtues, and the sacraments.

The second and third stories have each two pointed-arched windows of

the same size and design, each of which is divided in the usual Gothic

manner by a centre shaft. This shaft is of exquisite delicacy, in

design a richly carved spiral, ending in a capital, from which spring

two trefoiled arches. The sides of these windows are also enriched

with a similar shaft, then a rich border of mosaic, inclosed again by

a spiral, terminating in a second pointed arch which forms the outer

border to the window, above which is a triangular canopy thickly

carved. The whole of these windows, with the exception of the mosaic

band, are executed in white marble, and surrounded by slabs of green

serpentine and red porphyry.

The fourth story has but one window, rather larger than both those in

the second or third story, and divided by two spirals instead of one.

It is noticeable that the sides and canopy of this highest aperture

are comparatively simple in form and devoid of sculpture, which

practically ceases with the third story. Giotto was too thorough an

artist to put elaborate sculpture at a height where it could not be

seen, and preferred, instead of substituting coarser work, to depend

for the beauty of this upper story, almost entirely upon the effect of

boldly designed mosaic. Instead, therefore, of a single narrow band of

mosaic above the arch of the window, there are in the fourth story

four comparatively wide ones, and above this the triangular space

beneath the plain arch is filled with the same work, as are also the

spaces beside and above the canopy. Above the canopy is a still

broader band of mosaic, on which the jagged arches of the battlements

seem to rest; and above these again, a last band of mosaic is

surmounted by a gallery of white marble about six feet high, pierced

with quartre-foils along its whole length.

It is wholly impossible to describe the delicacy and finish which the

crest of this campanile possesses; the eye is led on from story to

story, the mosaic being used more and more freely, the sculpture more

sparingly, as the ascent is made, till at last the sculpture ends in

one perfectly shaped window, and the mosaic blossoms forth like a

flower into fullest beauty. Gradually the massive base, with its dark

bas-reliefs, changes into lighter sculpture, with backgrounds of blue

marble, then into figures of the saints, prophets, and patriarchs,

breaking the uniformity of which are two long vertical pierced panels

of quartre-foils in circles, serving to give light to the interior,

but not telling as windows, then two rich bands of mosaic carry on the

effect up to the first range of windows. There is no difference

between the first and second stories, except that the lower one has a

rich band of sculpture beneath the window, which is replaced by plain

marble in the second; but above the second, as I have said, the

sculpture ceases to be the main feature, the mosaic takes its place,

and succeeds in carrying out the unison of rich work and lightness of

effect in a way which is as novel as it is beautiful.

A few words must be said of the famous range of bas-reliefs, the

lowest, all of which were designed by Giotto, though he only lived to

execute two. This series is twenty-eight in number, exclusive of those

on the small half towers which form the corners of the Campanile. They

represent first the creation of man and woman, then the gradual

development of knowledge, the gradual increase of man's power over

nature, and discovery of his own capacities. Of three of these,

illustrations are given which may be relied upon for fidelity to the

main points of the design, though they do little justice to the

exquisite delicacy of the work.

These bas-reliefs are in lozenge form, about eighteen inches in height

and slightly less in breadth, and entirely surround the tower; nearly

the whole of these were sculptured by Luca della Robbia and Andrea

Pisano, to whom was entrusted the carrying out of Giotto's designs.

I shall not endeavour here to classify these reliefs according to

their authorship for two reasons; one, that the carrying out of

Giotto's design, whether by Andrea Pisano, Luca della Robbia, or any

other sculptor, is as to each special relief a pure matter of

conjecture, and is besides little connected with the subject I have in

hand; and the other reason is that this classification, though

attempted with great ingenuity, and after close investigation by Mr.

Ruskin, in his pamphlet on the "Shepherd's Tower," appears to me to

have yielded no satisfactory results, but rather to have involved the

subject in further obscurity, insomuch as it has led him to attribute

various reliefs in the series to Giotto's own hand, wholly on internal

evidence, and that moreover in my judgment of a most unsatisfactory

nature. I content myself, therefore, with observing that the three

first frescoes of the series and the one representing the drunkenness

of Noah are almost certainly the work of a different hand to that of

the rest of the bas-reliefs, and that that hand has probably modified

Giotto's original design to a considerable extent in the relative

importance of the landscape portions of the composition.

In these last designs of Giotto's life, there is a curious recurrence

to the ideas of his earliest time, a curious delight in depicting

natural objects, and treating his subject from the humorously dramatic

point of view; such as indeed he never altogether lost, but which lies

very much in the shade in the later frescoes of this master. In fact,

in some of these bas-reliefs, the comic element almost entirely

predominates, as, for instance, in that which is entitled _Logic_, in

which two furious disputants stand face to face, the countenances

inflamed with passion, one apparently being just on the eve of

proceeding to the _argumentum ad hominem_, the other rapping an open

book querulously with his finger. Others show a depth of perception of

character which perhaps would hardly have been expected from the

artist, as in the relief of _Arithmetic_, where a master is

instructing two of his pupils in that gentle science. One of the boys

is evidently intelligent enough, and bends happily over his book; the

other is of a heavy bovine type, and is listening with a puzzled

expression to the master's explanation. Of all the designs, perhaps

the finest are simply narrative, and of such, the three first of the

series, the creation of Adam, the creation of Eve, and the relief

called _The First Arts_, are singularly beautiful. It should be

noticed here that Giotto's knowledge of, and skill in depicting,

trees, made great advances from the time of the frescoes in the Arena

to that of these reliefs. No doubt something must be allowed for the

genius of those who executed the reliefs; but if they were done from

Giotto's designs, and there is a concensus of opinion that such was

the case, the advance is a very marked one. I am the more inclined to

believe in this progress as in the drawing of the brambles, in the

great fresco of _St. Francis wedding Poverty_ in the Lower Church of

Assisi, there are the elements of such leaf and bough drawing as are

seen here; and even at Assisi, the advance from the Arena, in the

drawing is very evident. Especially fine in design, and as far as it

goes, true to nature, is the drawing of the vine in the relief of

_Noah's Drunkenness_, or as it is sometimes called, the _Convention of

Wine_. The drawing of the leaves and grapes, and their disposition in

the panel, is perhaps the finest piece of good sculptural design to be

found at such an early date; and I should have selected this relief

for reproduction, had it not been, owing to Giotto's intense

perception of the essential meaning of his subject, so unpleasing in

the degradation of the drunken figure, as to unfit it for purposes of

illustration.

[Illustration: THE FIRST ARTS. BAS-RELIEF DESIGNED BY GIOTTO.

_On the Campanile, Florence._]

Our artist's sympathy with animal life, also revives in these works in

its full force, and may be seen in many instances. Look for example at

the fresco of ploughing, where the driver is guiding the oxen by the

simple, yet perfectly efficient plan, of twisting the tail round his

wrist, and pulling it one way or the other, when he wishes to turn. Or

look at the puppy in the bas-relief of _Shepherd Life_, as he sits

outside the patriarch's tent watching the sheep file past. What a

sense of comical responsibility and mischief there is in his face, the

quintessence, so to speak, of puppydom. Or look, for another kind of

truth, at the action of the horse in the fresco of _Riding_, and the

manner in which the rider is urging him with hand and voice at the

same time, and the wind is blowing out his mantle behind. There is a

curious circumstance with regard to this last design, which I

discovered by chance a few weeks ago when walking in the sculptor's

rooms of the British Museum. That is, that there is a figure in one of

the great friezes there, not that of the Parthenon, but the next in

beauty, that of the Erectheum, which is almost identical in the figure

of its man and his action with this of Giotto's. The very lines of the

cloak blowing out behind are almost identical, and the grasp of the

rider's knees, the pose of his figure and the outstretched arm (what

is left of it in the Greek sculpture, it has been taken just below the

elbow) are all exactly similar. The whole spirit of the Greek frieze

is as vivid in Giotto's work as it is in the original sculpture,

executed more than a thousand years before. It merely shows the

extraordinary unity of all good art, that a mediæval Italian, working

purely from nature and life, should be able to arrive by himself, at a

representation which has all the feeling of that which is acknowledged

to be the finest art the world has ever seen. It must be noticed that

where Giotto falls short of his Grecian predecessor, is chiefly in the

nobility of the types both of man and horse. Giotto's horse is going,

and his man is urging him as certainly as in the frieze, but his horse

is comparatively a common every-day cabhorse and is going in something

of the same rocking-time manner we may see in Hyde Park any day of the

week. And the man is like most of Giotto's men, a very ordinary

individual, somewhat of what hunting men call "a tailor," perhaps,

though he is evidently accustomed to riding. The Grecian sculptor has

refined the types of both man and horse, and given the latter a grand

sweeping action, such as would be promptly stopped by the police, if

indulged in within the limits of the park. This difference, however,

is a difference in aim, not a difference in feeling; the beauty of

line, and the meaning of the scene are given with almost as much

intensity by our artist as by the unknown sculptor who preceded him.

Most unfortunately I only found this similarity too late to permit me

to make use of it in the book; for a drawing of these two figures side

by side would have shown the likeness and dissimilarity more than

pages of description.

[Illustration: RIDING. BAS-RELIEF DESIGNED BY GIOTTO.

_On the Campanile, Florence._]

Many other bas-reliefs of this series are of great interest, but there

is no space left for me to dwell upon them, nor are their merits other

than those which I have spoken of so frequently throughout this book,

of simple truth, of keen discernment, and of genuine feeling. At every

step the work seems to say to us, "Here is the representation of

something true;" and the artist seems to say, "I have only tried to

give you facts in the most beautiful arrangement consistent with

truth; if you want more, or less, why, you must go elsewhere."

And so it is that from the time when he draws the meditations of a

puppy, to that in which he hangs his massive tower of coloured marble,

between the earth and heaven, his work seems simple, grand, and

sincere. He is not painting pictures to aggrandise himself, he is only

lovingly recording what he knows, feels, or hopes. He is not above,

nor below his work; his work is himself; it is himself, in joy, or

sorrow, or curiosity, or surprise; in mirth, or indifference. He is

human in his failings as well as in his greatness, and pretends to no

greater merit, than that of doing good work in a straightforward

manner.

Therefore we look back across the centuries with pleasure, to catch a

glimpse of the homely figure whose dreams of beauty were mingled with

tenderness and mirth, who lived in a coarse age, and made coarse jokes

at odd times; but who walked hand in hand with Dante, as great, if not

as sublime a genius, and whose life, as we can read it in his

paintings, was one of sympathy with all things living, and perfect

devotion to his art. Neither a Philistine, nor a humbug, he seems to

have trod the narrow path of art with secure footsteps, a good

workman, as well as a great imaginative painter; a merry as well as an

honest man. Such are the men whom Art wants nowadays, as it wanted

them then, those who are men as well as artists, who will not dream in

courtly isolation of beauties which never existed, but will go down

into the markets, and the streets, where men sin and sorrow, or by the

rivers and fields, where they toil and hope, and use their genius to

brighten the facts of every day, to interpret the strange gleams of

beauty, which fall here and there upon a weary world.

I like to think that that Campanile of "porphyry and jasper" was not

raised by one who dwelt amidst cold dreams of architectural proportion

and gave his life to the designing of geometrical ornament, but by the

man who could feel the humour of the dog, the patience of the oxen,

and love to have such things carved about the base of his tower; and

as I sit here in its very shadow, it seems to me as if the most

fitting meed of praise with which to conclude an essay on the old

painter, is, not that he painted the purest and loveliest frescoes in

the world; not that he raised above Florence a tower, which has been

the wonder and delight of all succeeding ages, but that he was the

first to show by his work, that Art was useful to man, not only as a

teacher, but as a friend.

FOOTNOTES:

[72] Mr. Ruskin has here been mistaken in asserting that this fresco

has not suffered from restoration; a good opera glass will satisfy any

one of this fact, as the restoration has not only been great in

amount, but most execrable in the quality of its work.

[73] Amongst those with which I am personally acquainted I hear on

good authority that the panel picture known as the Stefaneschi

altarpiece, at Rome, is of exceeding beauty.

[74] Of the Palazzo Vecchio.

INDEX.

PAGE

_Annunciation._ By Giotto, 59

Arena Chapel, Padua, 69

" Frescoes in, 76

" Note by Mr. Ruskin on, 84

Arnolfo di Cambio, 21

Arnolfo di Lapi (Cambio?), 21

Assisi, Lower Church of, 111

Assisi, Upper Church of, 94

Byzantine Architecture, 15

Campanile, The, at Florence, 135

Cennini, 29

Christian Architecture, 16

Cimabue, 33

_Coronation of the Virgin._ By Giotto, 128

Florence, Santa Croce, 65, 66, 118, 128

" Santa Maria Novella, 65, 133

" Campanile at, 135

Fresco Painting, 28

Frescoes in Arena Chapel, Padua, 76

Frescoes at Assisi, 115, 124

Frescoes in Santa Croce, 128

Frescoes in Santa Maria Novella, 133

Giotto, born at Vespignano (1266?), 41

" taken by Cimabue to Florence, 43

" story of his O, 45

" visits Rome, 45

" returns to Florence, 46

" paints portrait of Dante, 46

" marries Ciuta di Lapo, 47

" frescoes in the Arena Chapel at Padua, 47

" paints a buckler, 49

" visits Assisi, 51

" frescoes in Santa Croce, Florence, 51

" designs the Campanile, Florence, 52

" dies at Florence in 1336, 52

" latest works of, 120

Giunta of Pisa, 23, 100

Greek Art, 12

Guido of Siena, 38

Illuminated Manuscripts, 14

Lombardic Architecture, 24

_Madonna Enthroned._ By Cimabue, 36

_Madonna Enthroned._ By Giotto, 59, 63

Mosaics, 13, 21

_Navicella_, The, 45, 62

Padua, Arena Chapel at, 61

Painting, Chief function of, 53

Pisa, Campo Santo of, 61

Pisano, Andrea, 139

Pisano, Niccolo, 20

Robbia, Luca della, 139

Ruskin, John, 24, 84

Scrovegni Chapel at Padua, 69

Venice, Saint Mark's, 22, 27, 112

THE END.

R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS. BREAD STREET HILL, E.C.

_Published in Monthly Volumes._

A NEW SERIES OF

ILLUSTRATED BIOGRAPHIES OF THE GREAT ARTISTS.

The increasing love of art in our own country and the great desire for

knowledge in all matters connected with the literature of art and the

lives of the Great Masters called for the publication of the very

important information which modern research has gathered together on

every side, and which has now attracted the attention of all students

of art-biography both at home and abroad.

The intention of the projectors of this Series has been to produce, in

an easily accessible form and at a price within reach of every one,

the results of the recent investigations which have been made by many

well-known critics, especially those of Germany and the Netherlands.

Dr. Woltmann lately published a new edition of his great work on HANS

HOLBEIN; Professor Carl Lemcke on RUBENS and on VAN DYCK; Dr. Anton

Springer on RAPHAEL and MICHELANGELO; Herr Vosmaer has issued a

revision of his celebrated treatise on REMBRANDT, and Herr Thausing an

elaborate Life of ALBRECHT DÜRER. These works correct old statements

that have been proved to be untrue, impart new facts, and add

materially to our interest in the histories of the painters. Many of

the Italian art-critics have likewise recently issued treatises on the

great artists of their own country; and in France scarcely a week

passes without the appearance of some new contribution to the History

of Art. All this matter has been carefully studied.

The Series is issued in the form of handbooks. Each work contains a

monograph of a GREAT ARTIST--or a brief history of a GROUP OF ARTISTS

of one school--a portrait of the Master, and as many examples of his

art as could be readily procured. Cheapness of price having been

especially aimed at, the introduction of expensive new engravings was

thought to be unadvisable. Arrangements were therefore made with the

proprietors of the most important art publications on the Continent

for the reproduction of many of their costly woodcuts. These have been

printed with great care, and each biography of the Series has been

illustrated with at least twelve to twenty full-page engravings. The

price of each volume is 3_s._ 6_d._

_The following Biographies are now ready:_--

_ITALIAN PAINTERS._

=LEONARDO DA VINCI.= By Dr. J. PAUL RICHTER, Author of "Die

Mosaiken von Ravenna." With 16 Illustrations. From recent

researches.

=MICHELANGELO.= By CHARLES CLÉMENT, Author of "Michel-Ange,

Léonard et Raphael." With many large Engravings.

=RAPHAEL.= From the text of J. D. PASSAVANT. By N. D'ANVERS,

Author of "An Elementary History of Art." With 20 Engravings.

=TITIAN.= From the most recent researches. By RICHARD FORD HEATH,

M.A., Hertford College, Oxford. With 16 Engravings.

=TINTORETTO.= From investigations at Venice. By W. ROSCOE OSLER,

Author of occasional Essays on Art. With many Engravings.

_GERMAN, FLEMISH, DUTCH, &c._

=HOLBEIN.= From the text of Dr. A. WOLTMANN. By JOSEPH CUNDALL,

Author of "Life and Genius of Rembrandt." With 20 Engravings.

=THE LITTLE MASTERS OF GERMANY.= By W. B. SCOTT, Author of

"Lectures on Fine Arts." With 16 Engravings.

*** An _Edition de luxe_, containing 14 extra plates

from rare engravings in the British Museum, and bound in

Roxburgh style, may be had, price 10_s._ 6_d._

=REMBRANDT.= From the text of C. VOSMAER. By J. W. MOLLETT, B.A.,

Officier de l'Instruction Publique (France). With 16

Engravings.

=RUBENS.= From recent authorities. By C. W. KETT, M.A., Hertford

College, Oxford. With 16 Engravings.

=VAN DYCK and HALS.= From recent authorities. By PERCY R. HEAD,

Lincoln College, Oxford. With 16 Engravings.

=FIGURE PAINTERS OF HOLLAND.= By Lord RONALD GOWER, Trustee of

National Portrait Gallery. With 18 Engravings.

=VERNET & DELAROCHE.= From CHARLES BLANC. By J. RUUTZ REES,

Author of various Essays on Art. With 16 Engravings.

_ENGLISH PAINTERS._

=HOGARTH.= From recent researches. By AUSTIN DOBSON, Author of

"Vignettes in Rhyme." With 16 Illustrations.

=REYNOLDS.= From the most recent authorities. By F. S. PULLING,

M.A., Exeter College, Oxford. With 16 Illustrations.

=TURNER.= From recent investigations. By COSMO MONKHOUSE, Author

of "Studies of Sir E. Landseer." With 20 Engravings.

=LANDSEER.= A Memoir, by FREDERICK G. STEPHENS, Author of

"Flemish Relics," &c. With many Illustrations.

_The Volumes preparing for Early Publication are:_--

=FRA ANGELICO and the EARLY PAINTERS of FLORENCE.= By CATHERINE

PHILLIMORE. With 16 Illustrations.

=FRA BARTOLOMMEO and ALBERTINELLI.= By LEADER SCOTT, Author of "A

Nook in the Apennines." With 16 Illustrations.

=VELAZQUEZ.= By EDWIN STOWE, M.A., Brasenose College, Oxford.

With many Illustrations.

=GAINSBOROUGH and CONSTABLE=. By G. M. BROCK-ARNOLD, Hertford

College, Oxford. With many Illustrations.

=ALBRECHT DÜRER.= From recent authorities. By R. F. HEATH, M.A.,

Hertford College, Oxford. With many Illustrations.

=VAN EYCK and THE FLEMISH SCHOOL.= By MARY HEATON, Author of "The

History of Albrecht Dürer." With many Illustrations.

=GIOTTO.= By HARRY QUILTER, M.A., Trinity Col., Cambridge. From

recent investigations at Padua and Assisi. With many

Illustrations.

=CORNELIUS and OVERBECK.= By J. BEAVINGTON ATKINSON, Author of

"The Schools of Modern Art in Germany."

NOTICES OF THE PRESS.

1. From a Review in the _Spectator_, July 5, 1879.

"It is high time that some thorough and general acquaintance

with the works of these mighty painters should be spread

abroad, and it is also curious to think how long their names

have occupied sacred niches in the world's heart, without the

presence of much popular knowledge about the collective work of

their lives.... If the present series of biographies, which

seems to be most thoroughly and tastefully edited, succeeds in

responding to the wants of modest, if ardent, art-knowledge,

its aim will be accomplished."

2. Reprinted from the _Times_, January 22, 1880.

"Few things in the way of small books upon great subjects,

avowedly cheap and necessarily brief, have been hitherto so

well done as these biographies of the Great Masters in

painting. They afford just what a very large proportion of

readers in these hurrying times wish to be provided with--a

sort of concentrated food for the mind. The Liebigs of

literature, however, especially in that of the fine arts, need

no small amount of critical acumen, much experience in the art

of system, and something of the bee-like instinct that guesses

rightly where the honey lies. The mere 'boiling down' of great

books will not result in giving us a good little book, unless

the essence is properly diluted and set before us in a form

that can be readily assimilated, so to speak, and not in an

indigestible lump of details. The writers of these biographies

have, on the whole, succeeded in giving an excellent _aperçu_

of the painters and their works, and better where they have

adhered to the lives written by acknowledged specialists--such

as M. Vosmaer for Rembrandt, Passavant for Raphael, and Dr.

Woltmann for Holbein. The life of Holbein is by the editor,

with whom the idea of such a series originated, and to whose

great experience is to be attributed the very valuable copies

of all the important pictures contained in the different

biographies. These have been selected with great taste and

judgment, and being taken generally from less well-known works

by the masters, they enhance the interest and add much to the

practical utility of the books. The chronological lists of the

works of the masters are also very useful additions."

3. From _La Chronique des Arts_, March 20, 1880.

"A un prix d'extrême bon marché, 4 francs environ, en petits

volumes joliment cartonnés, et ornés de quinze à vingt

planches, la maison Sampson Low, Marston et Cie., à Londres, a

entrepris de publier une série de biographies des grands

artistes, résumées d'après les travaux les plus récents et les

plus estimés. Une bibliographie, une liste des gravures

exécutées par ou d'après l'artiste, une liste de ses oeuvres

ou de leurs prix; enfin, un index accompagnant ces résumés

confiés à des écrivains distingués versés dans l'histoire de

l'art. Ont paru ou sont en préparation dans cette série de

notices: Titien, Rembrandt, Raphaël, Van Dyck et Hals, Holbein,

Tintoret, Turner, Rubens, Michel-Ange, Léonard, Giotto,

Gainsborough, Velazquez, Pérugin, Reynolds, Landseer, Delaroche

et Vernet, les Petit Maîtres, les Peintres de figure en

Hollande.

"Peut-être la maison Sampson Low, Marston et Cie, devrait-elle

tenter une édition française de ces jolis et intéressants

petits volumes sérieusement étudiés, dont la brièveté

substantielle et le bon marché deviennent une bénédiction par

ce temps d'énormes publications à prix non moins

énormes."--DURANTY.

* * * * *

SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON,

CROWN BUILDINGS, 188. FLEET STREET.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have

been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

The Errata list has been corrected in this text.

Giotto · 第 12 / 12 章