,,renaissance ,,fancies ,,and ,,studies3
  ,,being ,a ,,sequel ,,to ,,euphorion  
,,by ,,vernon ,,lee   ,,london ,,smith1 
,,elder1  ,,co41 #ae ,,waterloo ,,place 
#ahie   ,all rights reserved  ,printed  
by ,,ballantyne1 ,,hanson  ,,co4 ,at the
 ,ballantyne ,press     ,,to  ,,my      
,,dear ,,friends ,,maria ,,and ,,pier   
,,desiderio ,,pasolini   ,,easter #ahie 
,,preface  ,these essays being mainly   
the outcome of direct personal          
impressions of certain works of art and 
literature1 and of the places in which  
they were produced1 ,i have but few     
acknowledgments to make to the authors  
of books treating of the same subject4  
,among the exceptions to this rule1 ,i  
must mention foremost ,professor        
,tocco's ,eresia nel ,medio ,evo1       
,monsieur ,gebhart's ,italie ,mystique1 
and ,monsieur ,paul ,sabatier's ,st4    
,franois d',assise4  ,i am1 on the other
 hand1 very deeply indebted to the      
conversation and advice of certain among
 my friends1 for furnishing me          

second-hand a little of that            
archological and critical knowledge     
which is now-a-days quite unattainable  
save by highly trained specialists4 ,my 
best thanks1 therefore1 to ,miss ,eugnie
 ,sellers1 editor of ,furtwngler's      
,masterpieces of ,greek ,sculpture2 to  
,mr4 ,bernhard ,berenson1 author of     
,venetian ,painters1 and a monograph on 
,lorenzo ,lotto2 and particularly to my 
friend ,mrs4 ,mary ,logan1 whose learned
 catalogue of the ,italian paintings at 
,hampton ,court is sufficient warrant   
for the correctness of my art-historical
 statements1 which she has had the      
kindness to revise4  ,,maiano1 ,,near   
,,florence1  ,april #ahie4              
,,contents                              
,,page   ,,preface                      
ix   ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,the ,,saints   
#a   ,,the ,,imaginative ,,art ,,of     
,,the ,,renaissance          #fe        
,,tuscan ,,sculpture                    
#ace   ,a ,,seeker ,,of ,,pagan         
,,perfection1 ,,being ,,the ,,life  ,,of

 ,,domenico ,,neroni1 ,,pictor          
,,sacrilegus          #afc              
,,valedictory                           
#bcc     ,,the ,,love ,,of ,,the        
,,saints   ,i  ,panis ,angelicus fit    
panis hominum4 ,o res mirabilis1        
manducat ,dominum ,pauper1 ,servus et   
,humilis4 ,these words of the ,matins of
 the ,most ,holy ,sacrament ,i heard for
 the first time many years ago1 to the  
beautiful and inappropriate music of    
,cherubini4 ,they struck me at that time
 as foolish1 barbarous1 and almost      
gross2 but since then ,i have learned to
 think of them1 and in a measure to feel
 of them1 as of something greater and   
more solemn than all the music that     
,cherubini ever wrote4  ,all the hymns  
of the same date are1 indeed1 things to 
think upon4 ,they affect one--the       
,stabat ,mater1 for instance1 and the   
,ave ,verum--very much in the same way  
as the figures which stare down1 dingy  
green and blue1 from the gold of the    
,cosmati's mosaics3 childish1 dreary1   

all stiff and agape1 but so solemn and  
pathetic1 and full of the greatest      
future4 ,for out of those ,cosmati      
mosaics1 and those barbarous frescoes of
 the old basilicas1 will come ,giotto   
and all the ,renaissance2 and out of    
those ,church songs will come ,dante2   
they are all signs1 poor primitive      
rhymes and primitive figures1 that the  
world is teeming again1 and will bear1  
for centuries to come1 new spiritual    
wonders4 ,hence the importance1 the     
venerableness of all those medival      
hymns4 ,but of none so much1 to my mind1
 as of those words ,i have quoted from  
the ,matins of the ,most ,holy          
,sacrament--   ,o res mirabilis1        
manducat ,dominum1   ,pauper1 ,servus et
 ,humilis4  ,for their crude and        
pathetic literality1 their image of the 
,godhead actually giving ,himself1 as   
they emphatically say1 to be chewed by  
the poor and humble man and the serf1   
show them to have been most especially  
born1 abortions though they be1 in the  

mightiest throes of mystical feeling1   
after the incubation of whole nations1  
born of the great medival marriage1     
sublime1 grotesque1 morbid1 yet         
health-bringing1 between abstract       
idealising religious thought and the    
earthly affections of lovers and        
parents--a strange marriage1 like that  
of ,st4 ,francis and ,poverty1 of which 
the modern soul also had to be born     
anew4  ,indeed1 if we realise in the    
least what this hymn must have meant1   
shouted in the processions of           
,flagellants1 chaunted in the ,pacts of 
,peace after internecine town wars2     
above all1 perhaps1 muttered in the cell
 of the friar1 in the den of the weaver2
 if we sum up1 however inadequately1 the
 state of things whence it arose1 and   
whence it helped to deliver us1 we may  
think that the greatest music is        
scarcely reverent enough to accompany   
these poor blundering rhymes4  ,the     
,feast of the ,most ,holy ,sacrament1 to
 whose liturgy this hymn1 ,o ,res       

,mirabilis1 belongs1 was instituted to  
commemorate the miracle of ,bolsena1    
which1 coming late as it did1 in the    
country of ,st4 ,francis1 and within two
 years of the birth of ,dante1 seems in 
its significant coincidences1 in its    
startling symbolism1 the fit material   
summing up of what is conveniently      
designated as the ,franciscan revival3  
the introduction into religious matters 
of passionate human emotion4 ,for in the
 year #abfc1 at ,bolsena in ,umbria1 the
 consecrated wafer dropped blood upon   
the hands of an unbelieving priest4     
,this trickery of a single individual1  
or more probably hallucination--this lie
 and self-delusion of interested or     
foolish bystanders--just happened to    
symbolise a very great reality4 ,for    
during the earlier ,middle ,ages1 before
 the coming of ,francis of ,assisi1 the 
souls of men1 or1 more properly1 their  
hearts1 had been sorely troubled and    
jeopardised4  ,the mixture of races and 
civilisations1 southern and northern and

 eastern1 antique and barbarian1 which  
had been slowly taking place ever since 
the fall of the ,roman ,empire1 had     
seemed1 in its consummation of the      
twelfth century1 less fertile on the    
whole than poisonous4 ,the old tribal   
system1 the old civic system1 triumphant
 centralising imperialism1 had all been 
broken up long since2 and now feudalism 
was going to pieces in its turn1 leaving
 a chaos of filibustering princelets1   
among whom loomed the equivocal figures 
of ,provenal counts1 of ,angevin and    
,swabian kings1 brutal as men of the    
,north1 and lax as men of the ,south2   
moreover1 suspiciously oriental2        
brilliant and cynical persons1          
eventually to be typified in ,frederick 
,,ii41 who was judiciously suspected of 
being ,antichrist in person4 ,in the    
midst of this anarchy1 over-rapid       
industrial development had moreover     
begotten the tendencies to promiscuity1 
to mystical communism1 always expressive
 of deep popular misery4 ,the ,holy     

,land had become a freebooter's         
,eldorado2 the defenders of ,christ's   
sepulchre were turned half-,saracen1    
infected with unclean mixtures of       
creeds4 ,theology was divided between   
neo-,aristotelean logic1 abstract and   
arid1 and ,alexandrian esoteric         
mysticism1 quietistic1 nay1 nihilistic2 
and the ,church had ceased to answer to 
any spiritual wants of the people4      
,meanwhile1 on all sides everywhere1    
heresies were teeming1 austere and      
equivocal1 pure and unclean according to
 individuals1 but all of them           
anarchical1 and therefore destructive at
 a moment when1 above all1 order and    
discipline were wanted4 ,the belief in  
the world's end1 in the speedy coming of
 ,antichrist and the ,messiah1 was rife 
among all sects2 and learned men1 the   
disciples of ,joachim of ,flora1 were   
busy calculating the very year and      
month4 ,lombardy1 and most probably the 
south of ,france1 ,flanders and the     
,rhine towns1 were full of strange      

,manichean theosophies1 pessimistic     
dualism of ,god and devil1 in which ,god
 always got the worst of it1 when ,god  
did not happen to be the devil himself4 
,the ravening lions1 the clawing1       
tearing griffins1 the nightmare brood   
carved on the capitals1 porches1 and    
pulpits of pre-,franciscan churches1 are
 surely not1 as orthodox antiquarians   
assure us1 mere fanciful symbols of the 
,church's vigilance and virtues3 they   
express too well the far-spread occult  
,manichean spirit1 the belief in a      
triumphant power of evil4  ,michelet1 ,i
 think1 has remarked that there was a   
moment in the early ,middle ,ages when1 
in the mixture of all contrary things1  
in the very excess of spiritual         
movement1 there seemed a possibility of 
dead level1 of stagnation1 of the       
peoples of ,europe becoming perhaps     
bastard ,saracens1 as in ,merovingian   
times they had become bastard ,romans2 a
 chance of ,byzantinism in the ,west4   
,be this as it may1 it seems certain    

that1 towards the end of the twelfth    
century1 men's souls were shaken1       
crumbling1 and what was worse1          
excessively arid4 ,there was as little  
certainty of salvation as in the heart  
of that ,priest saying ,mass at         
,bolsena2 but the miracle came to       
mankind at large some seventy years     
before it came to him4 ,it had begun1 no
 doubt1 unnoticed in scores of obscure  
heresies1 in hundreds of unnoticed      
individuals2 it became manifest to all  
the world in the persons of ,dominick1  
of ,elizabeth of ,hungary1 of ,king     
,lewis--above all1 of ,francis of       
,assisi4 ,as in the hands of the        
doubting priest1 so in the hands of all 
suffering mankind1 the mystic wafer     
broke1 proving itself true food for the 
soul3 the life-blood of hope and love   
welled forth and fertilised the world4  
,for the second time1 and in far more   
humble and efficacious way1 ,christ had 
been given to man4  ,to absorb the      
,eternal ,love1 to feed on the ,life of 

the ,world1 to make oneself             
consubstantial therewith1 these         
passionate joys of poor medival humanity
 are such as we should contemplate with 
sympathy only and respect1 even when the
 miracle is conceived and felt in the   
grossest1 least spiritual manner4 ,that 
act of material assimilation1 that      
feeding off the very ,godhead in most   
literal manner1 as described in the hymn
 to the ,most ,holy ,sacrament1 was     
symbolic of the return from exile of the
 long-persecuted instincts of mankind4  
,it meant that1 spiritually or grossly1 
each according to his nature1 men had   
cast fear behind them1 and--,o res      
mirabilis6--grown proud once more to    
love4  ,of this new wonder--questionable
 enough at times1 but1 on the whole1    
marvellously beneficent--the ,german    
knightly poets1 so early in the field1  
are naturally among the earliest 7for   
the ,provenals belonged to a sceptical1 
sensual country7 to give us a written   
record4 ,nearly all of the ,minnesingers

 composed what we must call religious   
erotics1 in no way different1 save for  
names of ,christ and the ,virgin1 from  
their most impassioned secular ones4    
,the ,song of ,solomon1 therefore1 is   
one of the few pieces of written        
literature of which we find constant    
traces in the works of these very       
literally illiterate poets4 ,yet the    
quality of their love1 if one may say   
so1 is very different from anything     
,hebrew1 or1 for the matter of that1    
,greek or ,roman2 their ardour is not a 
transient phenomenon which disturbs     
them1 like that of the ,shulamite1 or   
the lover described by ,sappho or       
,plato1 but a chief business of their   
life1 as in the case of ,dante1 of      
,petrarch1 of ,francesca and ,paolo1 or 
,tristram and ,yseult4 ,indeed1 it is   
difficult to guess whether this         
self-satisfied1 self-glorifying quality1
 which distinguishes medival passion    
from the passion 7always regarded as an 
interlude1 harmless or hurtful1 in civic

 concerns7 of unromantic                
,antiquity--whether1 ,i say1 this       
peculiarity of medival love is due to   
its having served for religious as well 
as for secular use1 or whether the      
possibility of its being brought into   
connection with the highest mysteries   
and aspirations was not itself a result 
of the dignity in which mere earthly    
ardours had come to be held4 ,be this as
 it may1 these ,german devotional       
rhapsodies display their essentially    
un-,hebrew1 un-antique characters only  
the more by the traces of the canticus  
canticorum in them1 as in all devout    
love lyrics4  ,any one curious in such  
matters may turn to a very striking poem
 by ,dante's contemporary1 ,frauenlob1  
in ,von der ,hagen's great collection4  
,also to a very strange composition1    
from the heyday of minne-song1 by       
,heinrich von ,meissen4 ,this is not the
 furious love ode1 but the ceremonious  
epithalamium of devotional poetry4 ,it  
is the bearing in triumph1 among flare  

of torches and incense smoke1 over      
flower-strewn streets and beneath       
triumphal arches1 of the ,bride of the  
,soul1 her enthroning on a stately      
couch1 like some new-wed ,moorish woman1
 for men to come and covet and admire4  
,above all1 and giving one a shock of   
surprise by association with the man's  
other work1 is a very long and elaborate
 poem addressed to ,christ or ,god by no
 less a minnesinger than ,master        
,gottfried of ,strasburg4 ,in it the    
,beloved is compared to all the things  
desired by eye or ear or taste or smell3
 cool water and fruit slaking feverish  
thirst1 lilies with vertiginous scent1  
wine firing the blood1 music wakening   
tears1 precious stones of ,augsburger   
merchants1 essences and spices of an    
,eastern cargo3--    ,ach herzen ,trut1 
genaden vol1    ,ach wol u je mer mere  
wol1    ,ein suez in ,arzeni    ,ach    
herzen bruch1 ach herzen not4    ,ach   
,rose rot1    ,ach rose wandels vrie6   
,ach jugend in jugent1 ach jugender     

,muot1    ,ach bluejender herzen ,minne6
  ,and so on for pages2 the sort of     
words which poor ,brangwain may have    
overheard on the calm sea1 when the     
terrible knowledge rushed cold to her   
heart that ,tristram and ,yseult had    
drained the fatal potion4  ,all this is 
foolish and unwholesome enough1 just    
twice as much so1 for its spiritual     
allegorising1 as the worldly love poetry
 of these often foolish and unwholesome 
,german chivalrous poets4 ,but1 for our 
consolation1 in that same huge          
collection of ,von der ,hagen's         
,minnesingers1 stand the following six  
lines1 addressed to the ,saviour1 if    
tradition is correct1 by a knightly     
monk1 ,bruder ,wernher von der          
,tegernsee3--    ,d bist mn1 ih bin dn2 
,des solt d gewis sn4    ,d bist        
beslozzen    ,in mnem herzen2   ,verlorn
 ist daz sluzzeln3    ,d muost immer    
drinne sn4  ,thou art locked up in my   
heart2 the little key is lost2 thou must
 remain inside4  ,this is a way of      

loving not logically suitable1 perhaps1 
to a divine essence1 but it is the      
lovingness which fertilises the soul1   
and makes flowers bud and birds sing in 
the heart of man4 ,out of it1 through   
simple creatures like ,bruder ,wernher1 
through the simplicity of scores of     
obscurer singers and craftsmen than he1 
of hundreds of nameless good men and    
women1 comes one large half of the art  
of ,dante and ,giotto1 nay1 of ,raphael 
and ,shakespeare3 the tenderness of the 
modern world1 unknown to stoical        
,antiquity4   ,,ii  ,the early ,middle  
,ages--the times before ,love came1 and 
with it the gradual dignifying of all   
realities which had been left so long to
 mere gross or cunning or violent       
men--the early ,middle ,ages have left  
behind them one of the most complete and
 wonderful of human documents1 the      
letters of ,ablard and ,hlose4 ,this is 
a book which each of us should read1 in 
order to learn1 with terror and         
self-gratulation1 how the aridity of the

 world's soul may neutralise the        
greatest individual powers for happiness
 and good4 ,these letters are as chains 
which we should keep in our             
dwelling-place1 to remind us of past    
servitude1 perhaps to warn us against   
future4  ,no other two individuals could
 have been found to illustrate1 by the  
force of contrast1 the intellectual and 
moral aridity of that eleventh century1 
which yet1 in a degree1 was itself a    
beginning of better things4 ,for ,hlose 
and ,ablard were not merely among the   
finest intellects of the ,middle ,ages2 
they were both1 in different ways1 to   
the highest degree passionately         
innovating natures4 ,no woman has ever  
been more rich and bold and warm of mind
 and heart than ,hlose2 nor has any     
woman ever questioned the unquestioned  
ideas and institutions of her age1 of   
any age1 with such vehemence and        
certainty of intuition4 ,she judges     
questions which are barely asked and    
judged of now-a-days1 applying to       

consecrated sentimentality the long-lost
 instinctive human rationalism of the   
ancient philosophers4 ,how could ,st4   
,luke recommend us to desist from       
getting back our stolen property8 ,she  
feels1 however obscurely1 that this is  
foolish1 antisocial1 unnatural4 ,nay1   
why should ,god prefer the penitence of 
one sinner to the constant goodness of  
ninety-nine righteous men8 ,she is1 this
 learned theologian of the eleventh     
century1 as passionately human in       
thought as any ,mme4 ,roland or ,mary   
,wolstonecraft of a hundred years ago4  
,ablard1 on the other hand1 we know to  
have been one of the most subtle and    
solvent thinkers of the ,middle ,ages2  
pursued by the greatest theologians1    
crushed by two ,councils1 and remaining1
 in the popular fancy1 as a sort of     
,friar ,bacon1 a forerunner of the      
wizard ,faustus2 a man whom ,bernard of 
,clairvaux called a thief of souls1 a   
rapacious wolf1 a ,herod2 a man who     
reveals himself a ,pagan in his attempts

 to turn ,plato into a ,christian2 a man
 who disputes about ,faith in the teeth 
of ,faith1 and criticises the ,law in   
the name of the ,law2 a man1 most       
enormous of all1 who sees nothing as    
symbol or emblem 7per speculum in       
nigmate71 but dares to look all things  
in the face 7facie ad faciem omnia      
intuetur74 ,facie ad faciem omnia       
intuetur1 this1 which is the            
acknowledged method of all modern1 as it
 had been of all antique1 thought1 nay1 
of all modern1 all antique1 all healthy 
spiritual life--this was the most       
damnable habit of ,ablard2 and1 as the  
letters show1 of ,hlose4 ,what shall we 
think1 in consequence1 of the           
intellectual and moral sterility of the 
orthodox world of the eleventh century1 
when we find this heretical man1 this   
rebellious woman1 arguing incessantly   
about unrealities1 crushing out all     
human feeling1 judging all questions of 
cause and effect1 settling all relations
 of life1 with reference to a system of 

intricate symbolical riddles8 ,these    
things are exceedingly difficult for a  
modern to realise2 we feel as though we 
had penetrated into some ,gulliver's    
world or kingdom of the ,moon2 for      
theology and its methods have been      
relegated1 these many hundred years1 to 
a sort of ,hortus inclusus where nothing
 human grows4 ,these medival men of     
science apply their scientific energies 
to mastering1 collecting1 comparing and 
generalising1 not of any single fact of 
nature1 but of the words of other       
theologians4 ,the magnificent sense of  
intellectual duty1 so evident in        
,ablard1 and in a dozen monastic authors
 quoted by him1 is applied solely to    
fantasticating over ,scripture and its  
expositors1 and diverting their every   
expression from its literal1 honest1    
sane meaning4 ,and indeed1 are some of  
the high efforts of medival genius1 the 
calculations of ,joachim and the        
,eternal ,gospel1 any better than the   
,book of ,dreams and the ,key to the    

,lottery8 ,most odious1 perhaps1 in this
 theology triumphant 7sickening enough1 
in good sooth1 even in the timid        
official theology of later days71 is the
 loss of all sense of what's what1 of   
fitness and decency1 which interprets   
allegorically the grosser portions of   
,scripture1 and1 by a reverse process1  
lends to the soul the vilest functions  
of the body1 and discusses virtue in the
 terms of fleshliness4 ,no knowledge can
 come out of this straw-splitting in    
vacuo2 and certainly no art out of this 
indecent pedant's symbolism3 all things 
are turned to dusty1 dirty lumber4  ,as 
with the intellectual1 so also1 in large
 degree1 with the moral3 a splendid will
 to do right is applied1 in its turn1 to
 phantoms4 ,here again the letters of   
,ablard and ,hlose are extraordinarily  
instructive4 ,the highest virtue1 the   
all-including 7how differently ,dante   
feels1 whatever he may say671 is        
obedience4 ,thus ,ablard1 having quoted 
from ,st4 ,augustine that all which is  

done for obedience' sake is well done1  
proceeds very logically3 ,it is more    
advantageous for us to act rightly than 
to do good4444 ,we should think not so  
much of the action itself1 as of the    
manner in which it is performed4  ,do   
not imagine that this care for the      
motive and contempt of the action arises
 from an estimate of the importance of a
 man's sum-total of tendencies1         
contrasted with his single1 perhaps     
unintentional1 acts2 still less that the
 advantage thus referred to has anything
 to do with other men's happiness4 ,the 
advantage is merely to the individual   
soul1 or in a cruder1 truer view1 to the
 individual combustible body to which   
that soul shall be eternally reunited   
hereafter4 ,and the spirit which makes  
virtue alone virtuous is the spirit of  
obedience3 obedience theoretically to a 
god1 but practically to a father of the 
,church1 a ,council1 an abbot or abbess4
 ,in this manner right-doing is emptied 
of all rational significance1 becomes   

dependent upon what itself1 having no   
human1 practical reason1 is mere        
arbitrary command4 ,chastity1 for       
instance1 which is1 together with       
mansuetude1 the especial ,christian     
virtue1 becomes in this fashion that    
mere guarding of virginity which1 for   
some occult reason1 is highly prized in 
,heaven2 as to clean living being       
indispensable for bearable human        
relations1 which even the unascetic     
ancients recognised so clearly1 there is
 never an inkling of that4 ,whence1     
indeed1 such persons as do not go in for
 professionally pleasing the divinity1  
who are neither priests1 monks1 nor     
nuns1 need not stickle about it2 and the
 secular literature of the ,middle      
,ages1 with its ,launcelots1 ,tristrams1
 ,flamencas1 and all its ,german and    
,provenal lyrists1 becomes the          
glorification of illicit love4 ,indeed1 
in the letters before us1 ,ablard       
regrets his former misconduct only with 
reference to religious standards3 as a  

layman he was perfectly free to seduce  
,hlose2 the scandal1 the horrible sin1  
was not the seduction1 but the          
profanation by married love of the dress
 of a nun1 the sanctuary of the virgin4 
,so it is with the renunciation of all  
the world's pleasures and interests4    
,the ascetic sacrifice of inclination1  
which the stoics had conceived as       
resistance to the tyrant without and the
 tyrant within1 as a method for serene  
and independent life and death1 this    
ascetic renunciation becomes1 in this   
arid theological world1 the mere giving 
up to please a jealous ,god of all that 
is not ,he4 ,ablard's regulations for   
the nuns1 which he gives as rules of    
perfection 7save in the matter of that  
necessary half sin1 marriage7 to devout 
lay folk1 come after all to this3 give  
human nature enough to keep it going1 so
 that it may be able to sacrifice       
everything else to the jealousy of the  
,godhead4 ,eating1 clothing oneself1    
washing 7though1 by the way1 there is no

 mention of this save for the sick71    
nay1 speaking and thinking1 are merely  
instrumental to the contemplation of    
,god2 any more than suffices for this is
 sinful4 ,on this point ,ablard quotes1 
with stolidest approval1 one of the most
 heart-rending of anecdotes4 ,a certain 
monk being asked why he had fled        
humankind1 answered1 on account of his  
great love for it1 and the impossibility
 of loving ,god and it at the same time4
  ,think upon that4 ,think on the wasted
 treasure of loving-kindness of which   
that monk and the thousands he          
represents cheated his fellow-men4 ,o   
love of human creatures1 of man for     
woman1 parents and children1 of         
brethren1 love of friends2 fuel and     
food1 which keeps the soul alive1 balm  
curing its wounds1 or1 if they be       
incurable1 helps the poor dying thing to
 die at last in peace--this was those   
early saints' notion of thee6  ,to      
refuse thus to love is to refuse not    
merely the highest usefulness1 but to   

refuse also the best kind of justice4   
,here again1 nay1 here more than ever1  
we may learn from those wonderful       
letters4 ,they constitute1 indeed1 a    
document of the human soul to which1 in 
my recollection1 one other only1        
,benjamin ,constant's ,adolphe1 can be  
compared4 ,but in these letters1--hers  
of grief1 humiliation1 hopelessness1    
making her malign her noble self2 and   
his1 bitter1 self-righteous1 crammed    
with theological moralisings--we see not
 merely the dual drama of two           
ill-assorted creatures1 but the much    
more terrible tragedy1 superadded by the
 presence1 looming1 impassive1 as of    
,cypris in ,euripides' ,hippolytus1 of a
 third all-powerful and superhuman      
entity3 the spirit of monasticism4 ,the 
unequal misery1 the martyrdom of ,hlose 
arises herefrom1 that she rebels against
 this ,deus ex machina2 that this nun of
 the eleventh century is a strong       
warm-hearted modern woman1 fit for      
,browning4 ,while ,ablard is her whole  

life1 the intimate companion of her     
highest thoughts1 she is only a toy to  
him1 and a toy which his theologian's   
pride1 his monkish self-debasement1     
makes him afraid and ashamed of4 ,ablard
 has been for her1 and ever remains1    
something like ,brahma to ,goethe's     
,bayadere2 her love1 her love above all 
for his intrepid intellect1 has raised  
him to a sacredness so great1 that his  
whim1 his fame1 his peace1 his very     
petulance can be refused nothing2 and   
that1 on the other hand1 any concession 
taken from him seems positive sacrilege4
 ,hence her refusal of marriage1 her    
answer1 that she would be prouder as his
 mistress--the ,latin word is           
harlot--than as the wife of ,csar4      
,fifty years later1 in the kind1        
passionate1 poetical days of ,st4       
,francis1 ,hlose might have given this  
loving fervour to ,christ1 and been a   
happy1 if a deluded1 woman2 but in those
 frigid monkish days1 there was no one  
for her to love1 save this frigid       

monkish ,ablard4 ,as it is1 therefore1  
she loves ,christ and ,god in obedience 
to ,ablard2 she passionately cons the   
fathers1 the ,scriptures1 merely        
because1 so to speak1 the hand of       
,ablard has lain on the page1 the eyes  
of ,ablard have followed the characters2
 and finally1 after all her vain        
entreaties for 7she scarce knows what67 
love1 sympathy1 one personal word1 she  
feeds her starving heart on the only    
answer to her supplications--the        
dialectic exercises1 metaphysical       
treatises1 and theological sermons      
7containing even the forms applicable   
only to a congregation7 which he doles  
out to her4 ,thankful for anything which
 comes from him1 however little it comes
 to her4  ,how different with ,ablard6  
,despite occasional atrocious misery and
 unparalleled temporal misfortunes      
7which on the whole act upon him as     
tonics71 this great metaphysician is    
well suited to his times1 and           
spiritually thrives in their exhausted1 

chill atmosphere4 ,the public rumour    
7which ,hlose hurls at him in a fit of  
broken-hearted rage71 that his passion  
for her had been but a passing folly of 
the flesh1 he never denies1 but1 on the 
contrary1 reiterates perpetually for her
 spiritual improvement2 let her         
understand clearly from what            
inexpressible degradation ,god in ,his  
mercy has saved them1 at least saved    
him2 let her realise that he wanted only
 carnal indulgence1 and would have got  
it1 if need be1 through threats and     
blows4 ,he recognises1 in his past1 only
 a feeling which1 now it is over1 fills 
his ascetic mind with nothing but       
disgust and burning shame1 and hence he 
tries1 by degrading it still more1 by   
cynically raking up all imaginable      
filth1 to separate that past from his   
present4 ,so far1 were only he himself  
concerned1 one would sympathise1 though 
contemptuously1 with this agonised      
reaction of a proud1 perhaps a vain1 man
 of mere intellect4 ,but the atrocious  

thing is1 that he treats her as a       
loathsome relic of this past dishonour2 
and answers her prayer 7after twelve    
years' silence67 for a word of          
loving-kindness by elaborate            
denunciations of their former love1 and 
reiterated jubilations that he1 at      
least1 has long been purged thereof2 not
 unmixed with sharp admonishment that   
she had better not try to infect his    
soul afresh1 but set about1 if needful1 
cleansing her own4 ,now it so happens   
that what he would cure her of is       
incurable1 being1 in fact1 eternal1     
divine--simple human love4 ,so1 to his  
pious and cynical admonitions she       
answers with strange inconsistency4     
,long brooding over his taunts will     
sometimes make her1 to whom he is always
 the divinity1 actually believe1 despite
 her reiteration1 that she had sinned   
out of obedience to him1 that she really
 is a polluted creature1 guilty of the  
unutterable crime of contaminating a man
 of ,god1 nay1 a god himself4 ,and then1

 unable to silence affection1 she cries 
out in agony at the perversity of her   
nature1 incapable even of hating        
sincerely its sinfulness2 for would she 
not do it again1 is she not the same    
,hlose who would have left the very     
altar1 the very communion with ,christ1 
at ,ablard's word8 ,at other times she  
is pious1 resigned1 almost serene2 for  
is that not ,ablard's wish8 a careful   
mother to her nuns4 ,but when1          
encouraged by her docility and blind to 
her undying love1 ,ablard believes that 
he has succeeded in quieting her down1  
and rewards her piety by some rhetorical
 phrase of ,monkish eulogy1 she suddenly
 turns round1 a terrible tragic figure4 
,she repudiates the supposed purity and 
piety1 blazons out her wickedness and   
hypocrisy1 and cries out1 partly with   
the horror of the sacrilegious nun1     
mainly with the pride of the faithful   
wife1 that it is not ,god she loves but 
,ablard4  ,after the most violent of    
these outbreaks there is a dead silence4

 ,one guesses that some terrible message
 has come1 warning her that unless she  
promised that she would never write to  
,ablard save as the ,abbess of the      
,paraclete to the monk of ,cluny1 not a 
word from him shall ever come2 and that1
 in order to keep this last miserable   
comfort1 she has bitten out that        
truth-speaking tongue of hers4 ,for     
after this there are only questions on  
theological points and on the regulation
 of nunneries2 and ,ablard becomes as   
liberal of words as he used to be chary1
 as full of encouragement as he once was
 of insult1 now that he feels           
comfortably certain that ,hlose has     
changed from a mistress to a penitent1  
and that in her also there is an end at 
last of all that sinful folly of love4  
,and thus1 upon ,hlose pacified1 numbed1
 dead of soul1 among her praying and    
scrubbing and cooking and linen-mending 
nuns2 and ,ablard reassured1 serene1    
spiritually proud once more among the   
raging controversies1 the ecclesiastical

 persecutions in which his soul         
prospered1 the volume closes2 the       
curtain falls upon one of the most      
terrible tragedies of the heart1 as     
poignant after seven hundred years as in
 those early ,middle ,ages1 before ,st4 
,francis claimed sun and swallows as    
brethren1 and the baby ,christ was given
 to hold to ,st4 ,anthony of ,padua4    
,,iii  ,the humanising movement1 due no 
doubt to greater liberty and prosperity1
 to the growing importance of honest    
burgher life1 which the ,church         
authorised in the person of ,francis of 
,assisi1 doubtless after persecuting it 
in the persons of dozens of obscure     
heresiarchs--this great revival of      
religious faith was essentially the     
triumph of profane feeling in the garb  
of religious3 the sanctification1       
however much disguised1 of all forms of 
human love4 ,one is fully aware of the  
moral dangers attendant upon every such 
equivocation2 and the great saints 7like
 their last modern representatives1 the 

fervent1 shrewd1 and kindly leaders of  
certain ,protestant revivals7 were      
probably1 for all their personal        
extravagances1 most fully prepared for  
every sort of unwholesome folly among   
their disciples4 ,the whole of a certain
 kind of devotional literature1 manuals 
of piety1 ,church hymns1 lives and      
correspondence of saintly persons1 is   
unanimous in testifying to the          
hysterical self-consciousness1          
intellectual enervation1 emotional      
going-to-bits1 and moral impotence      
produced by such vicarious and barren   
expenditure of feeling4 ,yet it seems to
 me certain that this enthroning of     
human love in matters spiritual was an  
enormous1 indispensable improvement1    
which1 whatever detriment it may have   
brought in individual and1 so to say1   
professionally religious cases1 nay1    
perhaps to all religion as a whole1     
became perfectly wholesome and          
incalculably beneficent in the enormous 
mass of right-minded laity4  ,for human 

emotion1 although so often run to waste1
 had been at least elicited1 and1 once  
elicited1 could find1 in nine cases out 
of ten1 its true and beneficent channel2
 whereas1 in the earlier medival days1  
the effort to crush out all human       
feeling 7as with that holy man quoted by
 ,ablard71 to break all human           
solidarity1 had not merely left the     
world in the hands of unscrupulous and  
brutal persons1 but had imprisoned all  
finer souls in solitary and selfish     
thoughts of their individual salvation4 
,things were now different4 ,the story  
of ,lucchesio of ,poggibonsi1 recovered 
from oblivion by ,m4 ,paul ,sabatier1 is
 the most lovely expression of          
,franciscan tenderness and reverence    
towards the affections of the laymen1   
and ought to be remembered in company   
with the legend of the wood-pigeons1    
whom ,st4 ,francis established in his   
cabin and blessed in their courtship and
 nesting4 ,this ,lucchesio had exercised
 a profession which has ever savoured of

 damnation to the minds of the poor and 
their lovers1 that of corn merchant or  
speculator in grain2 but touched by     
,franciscan preaching1 he had kept only 
one small garden1 which1 together with  
his wife1 he cultivated half for the    
benefit of the poor4 ,one day the wife1 
known in the legend only as ,bona       
,donna1 sickened and knew she must die1 
and the sacrament was brought to her    
accordingly4 ,but ,lucchesio never      
thought that it could be ,god's will    
that he should remain on earth after his
 wife had been taken from him4 ,so he   
got himself shriven1 received the last  
sacraments with her1 held her hands     
while she died2 and when she was dead1  
stretched himself out1 made the sign of 
the cross1 called on ,jesus1 ,mary1 and 
,st4 ,francis1 and peacefully died in   
his turn3 ,god could not have wished him
 to live on without her4 ,the passionate
 ,franciscan sympathy with human love   
makes light of all the accepted notions 
of bereavement being acceptable as a    

divine dispensation4 ,lucchesio of      
,poggibonsi was1 we are told1 a member  
of the ,third ,order of ,franciscans1   
and his legend may help us to appreciate
 the value of such institutions1 which  
gave heaven to the laity1 to the married
 burgher1 the artisan1 the peasant2     
which fertilised the religious ideal    
with the simplest and sweetest instincts
 of mankind4 ,but1 ,third ,order apart1 
the mission of the regular ,franciscans 
and ,dominicans is wholly different from
 that of the earlier orders of          
monasticism proper4 ,the earlier monks1 
however useful and venerable as tillers 
of the soil and students of all         
sciences1 were1 nevertheless1 only      
agglomerated hermits1 retired from the  
world for the safety each of his own    
soul2 whereas the preaching1 wandering  
friars are men who mix with the world   
for the sake of souls of others4 ,thus1 
throughout the evolution of religious   
communities1 down to the ,jesuits and   
,oratorians1 to the great nursing       

brother-and sisterhoods of the          
seventeenth century1 we can watch the   
substitution of care for lay souls in   
the place of more saintly ones--a       
gradual secularisation in unsuspected   
harmony with the heretical and          
philosophical movements which tend more 
and more to make religion an essential  
function of life1 instead of an activity
 with which life is for ever at         
variance4  ,in accordance with this     
evolution is the great enthroning of    
love in the thirteenth century3 it means
 the replacing of the terror of a       
divinity1 who was little better than a  
metaphysical ,moloch 7sometimes1 and    
oftener than we think1 a metaphysical   
,ormuzd and ,ahriman of ,manichean      
character71 by the idolatry of an       
all-gracious ,virgin1 of an             
all-compassionate and all-sympathising  
,christ4  ,it was an effort at          
self-righting of the unhappy world1 this
 love-fever which followed on the many  
centuries of monastic self-mutilation2  

for1 in sickness of the spirit1 the hot 
stage1 for all its delirium1 means a    
possibility of life4 ,moreover1 it gave 
to mankind a plenitude of happiness such
 as is necessary1 whether reasonable or 
unreasonable1 for mankind to continue   
living at all2 art1 poetry1 freedom1 all
 the things which form the ,viaticum on 
mankind's journey through the dreary    
ages1 requiring for their production1 it
 would seem1 an extra dose of faith1 of 
hope1 and happiness4 ,indeed1 the       
,franciscan movement is important not so
 much for its humanitarian quality as   
for its optimism4  ,many other religious
 movements have asserted1 with equal and
 greater efficacy1 the need for charity 
and loving-kindness2 but none1 as it    
seems to me1 has conceived like it that 
charity and loving-kindness are not     
mitigations of misery1 but aids to joy4 
,the universal brotherhood1 preached by 
,francis of ,assisi1 is a brotherhood   
not of suffering1 but of happiness1 nay1
 of life and of happiness4  ,the sun1 in

 the wonderful song which he            
made--characteristically--during his    
sickness1 is the brother of man because 
of his radiance and splendour2 water and
 fire are his brethren on account of    
their virtues of purity and humbleness1 
of jocund and beautiful strength2#a and 
if we find1 throughout his legends1 the 
,saint perpetually accompanied by       
birds--the swallows he begged to let him
 speak1 the falcon who called him in the
 morning1 the turtle-doves whose pairing
 he blessed1 and all the feathered flock
 whom ,benozzo represents him preaching 
to in the lovely fresco at              
,montefalco--if1 as ,i say1 there is    
throughout his life and thoughts a sort 
of perpetual whir and twitter of birds1 
it is1 one feels sure1 because the      
creatures of the air1 free to come and  
go1 to sit on beautiful trees1 to drink 
of clear streams1 to play in the        
sunshine and storm1 able above all to be
 like himself1 poets singing to ,god1   
are the symbols1 in the eyes of         

,francis1 of the greatest conceivable   
felicity4#b    ,footnote #a3 ,st4       
,francis's hymn 7,sabatier1 ,st4        
,franois d',assise73--        ,laudato  
sie1 mi signore1 cum tucte le tue       
creature1       ,spetialimento messer lo
 frate sole1       ,lo quale jorna1 et  
illumini per lui2      ,et ello  bello e
 radiante cum grande splendore4         
99       99       99       99       99  
,laudato si1 m signore per frate ,vento 
,et per aere et nubilo et sereno et omne
 tempo             99       99       99 
99       99       ,laudato1 si1 mi      
signore1 per sor acqua       ,la quale  
multo utile et humele et pretiosa et    
casta2       ,laudato si1 mi signore1   
per frate focu       ,per lo quale      
ennallumini la nocte      ,et ello      
bello et jocundo e robustioso e forte4  
,in its rudeness1 how magnificent is    
this last line6    ,footnote #b3 ,st4   
,francis's sermon to the birds in the   
valley of ,bevagna   7,fioretti xvi473  
,ancora gli 7a ,dio7 siete tenuti per lo

 elemento   dell' aria che egli ha      
diputato a voi 444 e ,iddio vi pasce1 e 
davvi li   fiumi e le fonti per vostro  
bere2 davvi li monti e le valli per     
vostro   rifugio e gli alberi alti per  
fare li vostri nidi 444 e per           
guardatevi1   sirocchie mie1 del peccato
 della ingratitudine1 e sempre vi       
studiate di   lodare ,iddio 444 e allora
 tutti qugli uccilli si levarons in aria
 con   maraviglios canti4    ,fioretti  
xxviii4 444 ,questo dono1 che era dato a
 frate ,bernardo da   ,quintevalle1 cio1
 che volando si pascesse come la        
rondine4 ,fioretti   xxii41             
,considerazioni i4  ,indeed1 we can     
judge of what the ,franciscan movement  
was to the world by what its gospel1 the
 divine ,fioretti1 are even to          
ourselves4 ,this humble collection of   
stories and sayings1 sometimes foolish1 
always childlike1 becomes1 to those who 
have read it with more than the eyes of 
the body1 a beloved and necessary       
companion1 like the solemn serene books 

of antique wisdom1 the passionate bitter
 ,book of ,job1 almost1 in a way1 like  
the ,gospels of ,christ4 ,but not for   
the same reason3 the book of ,francis   
teaches neither heroism nor resignation1
 nor divine justice and mercy2 it       
teaches love and joyfulness4 ,it keeps  
us for ever in the company of creatures 
who are happy because they are loving3  
whether the creatures be poor1 crazy    
,brother ,juniper 7the comic person of  
the cycle7 eating his posset in         
brotherly happiness with the superior he
 had angered2 or ,brother ,masseo1      
unable from sheer joy in ,christ to     
articulate anything save ,u-u-u1 like a 
pigeon2 or ,king ,lewis of ,france      
falling into the arms of ,brother       
,egidio2 or whether they be the         
,archangel ,michael in friendly converse
 with ,brother ,peter1 or the ,madonna  
handing the divine child for ,brother   
,conrad to kiss1 or even the ,wolf of   
,gubbio1 converted1 and faithfully      
fulfilling his bargain4 ,there are      

sentences in the ,fioretti such as exist
 perhaps in no other book in the world1 
and which teach something as important1 
after all1 as wisdom even and perfect   
charity--,and there answered ,brother   
,egidio3 ,beloved brethren1 know that as
 soon as he and ,i embraced one another1
 the light of wisdom revealed and       
manifested to me his heart1 and to him  
mine2 and thus by divine operation1     
seeing one into the other's heart1 that 
which ,i would have said to him and he  
to me1 each understood much better than 
had we spoken with our tongue1 and with 
greater joyfulness4444 ,again1 ,jesus   
appeared to ,brother ,ruffino and said1 
,well didst thou do1 my son1 inasmuch as
 thou believedst the words of ,st4      
,francis2 for he who saddened thee was  
the demon1 whereas ,i am ,christ thy    
teacher2 and for token thereof ,i will  
give thee this sign3 ,as long as thou   
live1 thou shalt never feel affliction  
of any sort nor sadness of heart4  ,st4 
,francis1 we are told1 being infirm of  

body1 was comforted through ,god's      
goodness by a vision of the joy of the  
blessed4 ,suddenly there appeared to him
 an angel in a great radiance1 which    
angel held a viol in his left hand and a
 bow in his right4 ,and while ,st4      
,francis remained in stupefaction at the
 sight1 this angel drew the bow once    
upwards across the viol1 and instantly  
there issued such sweetness of melody as
 melted the soul of ,st4 ,francis1 and  
suspended it from all bodily sense4     
,and1 as he afterwards told his         
companions1 he was of opinion that if   
that angel had drawn the bow downwards  
7instead of upwards7 across the viol1   
his soul would have departed from his   
body for the very excess of delight4    
,it was not so much to save the souls of
 men from hell1 about which1 indeed1    
there is comparatively little talk in   
the ,fioretti1 but to draw them also    
into the mystic circle where such       
angelic music was heard1 that ,francis  
of ,assisi preached throughout ,umbria1 

and even as far as the ,soldan's        
country2 and1 if we interpret it        
rightly1 the strings of that heavenly   
viol were the works of creation and the 
souls of all creatures1 and the bow1    
whose upward movement ravished1 and     
whose downward movement would have      
almost annihilated with its sweetness1  
that bow drawn across the vibrating     
world was no other than love4   ,,iv    
,justice preached by ,hebrew prophets1  
charity and purity taught by ,jesus of  
,nazareth1 fortitude recommended by     
,epictetus and ,aurelius1 none of these 
great messages to men necessarily       
produce that special response which we  
call ,art4 ,but the message of loving   
joyfulness1 of happiness in the world   
and the world's creatures1 whether men  
or birds1 or sun or moon1--this message1
 which was that of ,st4 ,francis1 sets  
the soul singing2 and just such singing 
of the soul makes art4 ,hence1 even as  
the ,apennine blazed with supernatural  
light1 and its forests and rocks became 

visible to the most distant wayfarers1  
when the ,eternal ,love smote with its  
beams the praying saint on ,la ,vernia2 
so also the souls of those men of the   
,middle ,ages were made luminous and    
visible by the miracle of poetry and    
painting1 and we can see them still1    
distinct even at this distance4  ,one of
 the earliest of the souls so revealed  
is that of the ,blessed ,jacopone of    
,todi4 ,jacopo dei ,benedetti1 a        
fellow-countryman of ,st4 ,francis1 must
 have been born in the middle of the    
thirteenth century1 and is said to have 
died in #acaf1 when ,dante1 presumably1 
was writing his ,purgatory and          
,paradise2 to him is ascribed the       
authorship of the hymn ,stabat ,mater1  
remembered1 and to be remembered 7owing 
to the embalming power of music7 far    
beyond his vernacular poems4 ,tradition 
has it that he turned to the religious  
life in consequence of the sudden death 
of his beloved1 and the discovery that  
she had worn a hair-shirt next her      

delicate body4 ,be this as it may1 many 
allusions in his poems suggest that he  
had lived the wild life of the barbarous
 ,umbrian cities1 being a highwayman    
perhaps1 forfeiting his life1 and also  
having to fly the country before the    
fury of some family vendetta4 ,on the   
other hand1 it is plain at every line   
that he was a frantic ascetic1 taking a 
savage pleasure in vilifying all mundane
 things1 and passionately disdainful of 
study1 of philosophical and theological 
subtleties4 ,no poet1 therefore1 of the 
troubadour sort1 or of the idealising   
learned refinement of ,guinicelli or    
,cavalcanti4 ,nor was his life one of   
apostolic sweetness4 ,having taken part 
in the furious ,franciscan schism1 and  
pursued with invectives ,boniface       
,,viii41 he was cast by that ,pope into 
a dungeon at ,palestrina4 ,my dwelling1 
he writes1 is subterranean1 and a       
cesspool opens on to it2 hence a smell  
not of musk4 ,no one can speak to me2   
the man who waits on me may1 but he is  

obliged to make confession of my        
sayings4 ,i wear jesses like a falcon1  
and ring whenever ,i move3 he who comes 
near my room may hear a queer kind of   
dance4 ,when ,i have laid myself down1  
,i am tripped up by the irons1 and wound
 round in a big chain 7negli ferri      
inzampagliato1 inguainato in catenone74 
,i have a little basket hung up so that 
the mice may not injure it2 it can hold 
five loaves4444 ,while ,i eat them      
little by little1 ,i suffer great cold4 
,moreover1 ,pope ,boniface refuses him  
absolution1 and ,jacopone's invectives  
are alternated with heart-rending       
petitions that this mercy at least be   
shown him2 as to his other woes1 he will
 endure them till his death4 ,in this   
frightful place ,jacopone had visions1  
which the ,church1 giving him therefore 
the title of ,blessed1 ratifies as      
genuine4 ,one might expect nightmares1  
such as troubled the early saints in the
 wilderness1 or ,john ,bunyan in gaol2  
but that was not the spirit of the      

medival revival3 terror had been cast   
out by love4 ,more than a quarter of    
,jacopone's huge volume consists in what
 is merely love poetry3 he is           
languishing1 consumed by love2 when the 
beloved departs1 he sighs and weeps1 and
 shrieks1 and dies alive4 ,will the     
beloved have no mercy8 ,jesu1 donami la 
morte1 o di te fammi assaggiare4 ,then  
the joys of love1 depicted with equal   
liveliness1 amplifications as usual of  
the erotic hyperboles of the ,shulamite 
and her lover2 the phenomenon1 to whose 
uncouth strangeness devotional poetry   
accustoms us even now-a-days1 which we  
remarked in ,gottfried von ,strasburg   
and ,frauenlob1 and on which it is      
needless further to insist4  ,but there 
is here in ,jacopone something which we 
missed in ,gottfried and ,frauenlob1 of 
which there is no trace in the ,song of 
,solomon1 but which1 suggested in the   
lovely six lines of ,bruder ,wernher1   
makes the emotionalism of the ,italian  
,middle ,ages wholesome and fruitful4 ,a

 child-like boy and girlish             
light-heartedness that makes love a     
matter not merely of sighing and dying1 
but of singing and dancing2 and1        
proceeding thence1 a fervour of loving  
delightedness which is no longer of the 
man towards the woman1 but of the man   
and the woman towards the baby4 ,the    
pious monk1 in his ecstasies over       
,jesus1 intones a song which might be   
that of those passionate farandoles of  
angels who dance and carol in           
,botticelli's most rapturous pictures3--
    ,amore1 amor1 dove m'hai tu menato8 
,amore1 amor1 fuor di me m'hai trattato4
    ,ciascun amante1 amator del         
,signore1    ,venga alla danza cantando 
d'amore4  ,can we not see them1 the     
souls of such fervent lovers1 swaying   
and eddying1 with joined hands and      
flapping wings1 flowers dropping from   
their hair1 above the thatched roof of  
the stable at ,bethlehem8  ,the stable  
at ,bethlehem6 ,it is perpetually       
returning to ,jacopone's thoughts4 ,the 

cell1 the dreadful underground prison at
 ,palestrina1 is broken through1        
irradiated by visions which seem        
paintings by ,lippo or ,ghirlandaio1    
nay1 by ,correggio and ,titian          
themselves1 the tender baby body 7il    
tenerin corpo7 of the blood of ,mary has
 been given in charge to a pure company2
 ,st4 ,joseph and the ,virgin           
contemplate the little creature 7il     
piccolino7 with stupefaction4 ,o gran   
piccolino ,jesu nostro diletto1 he who  
had seen ,thee between the ox and the   
little ass1 breathing upon thy holy     
breast1 would not have guessed thou were
 begotten of the ,trinity6 ,but besides 
the ox and the ass there are the angels4
 ,in the worthy stable of the sweet baby
 the angels are singing round the little
 one2 they sing and cry out1 the beloved
 angels1 quite reverent1 timid and shy  
7tutti riverenti1 timidi e subbietti1   
this beautiful expression is almost     
impossible save in ,italian71 round the 
little baby ,prince of the ,elect who   

lies naked among the prickly hay4 ,he   
lies naked and without covering2 the    
angels shout in the heights4 ,and they  
wonder greatly that to such lowliness   
the ,divine ,verb should have stooped4  
,the ,divine ,verb1 which is highest    
knowledge1 this day seems as if ,he knew
 nothing of anything 7il verbo divino   
che  sommo sapiente1 in questo di par   
che non sappia niente674 ,look at him on
 the hay1 crying and kicking 7che       
gambetta piangente71 as if ,he were not 
at all a divine man4444 ,meanwhile1     
other angels1 as in ,benozzo's frescoes1
 are busy picking rarest flowers in the 
garden4 ,in the garden6 ,why ,he        
,himself is a fragrant garden2 ,jesus is
 a garden of many sweet odours2 and what
 they are those can tell who are the    
lovers of this sweet little brother of  
ours4  ,di ,questo nostro dolce         
fratellino3 it is such expressions as   
these1 ,bambolino1 ,piccolino1          
,garzolino1 el magno ,jesulino1 these   
caressing1 ever-varied diminutives1     

which make us understand the monk's     
passionate pleasure in the child2 and   
which1 by the emotion they testify to   
and re-awaken1 draw more into relief1   
make visible and tangible the little    
kicking limbs on the straw1 the dimpled 
baby's body4  ,and then there are the   
choruses of angels4 ,o new song1 writes 
,jacopone1 which has killed the weeping 
of sick mankind6 ,its melody1 methinks1 
begins upon the high ,fa1 descending    
gently on the ,fa below1 which the ,verb
 sounds4 ,the singers1 jubilating1      
forming the choir1 are the holy angels1 
singing songs in that hostelry1 before  
the little babe1 who is the ,incarnate  
,word4 ,on lamb's parchment1 behold6 the
 divine note is written1 and ,god is the
 scribe1 ,who has opened ,his hand1 and 
has taught the song4  ,have we not here1
 in this odd earliest allegory of music 
and theology1 this earliest precursor of
 the organ-playing of ,abt ,vogler1 one 
of those choirs1 clusters of singing    
childish heads--clusters1 you might     

almost say1 of sweet treble notes1 tied 
like nosegays by the score held         
scrollwise across them1 which are among 
the sweetest inventions of ,italian art1
 from ,luca della ,robbia to ,raphael1  
cantatori1 guibilatori1 che tengon il   
coro8  ,and this is the place for a     
remark which1 in the present uncertainty
 of all sthetic psychology1 ,i put      
forward as a mere suggestion1 but a     
suggestion less wide of the truth than  
certain theories now almost             
unquestioned3 the theories which        
arbitrarily assume that art is the      
immediate and exact expression of       
contemporary spiritual aspirations and  
troubles4 ,that such may be the case    
with literature1 particularly the more  
ephemeral kinds thereof1 is very likely1
 since literature1 save in the great    
complex structures of epos1 tragedy1    
choral lyric1 is but the development of 
daily speech1 and possibly as upstart1  
as purely passing1 as daily speech      
itself2 moreover1 in its less artistic  

forms1 requiring little science or      
apprenticeship4  ,but art is a thing of 
older ancestry2 you cannot1 however     
bursting with emotion1 embody your      
feelings in forms like those of         
,phidias1 of ,michelangelo1 of ,bach1 or
 ,mozart1 unless such forms have come   
ready to hand through the long1 steady  
working of generations of men3 ,phidias 
and ,bach in person1 cut off from their 
precursors1 would not1 for all their    
genius1 get as far as a schoolboy's     
caricature1 or a savage's performance on
 a marrow-bone4 ,and these slowly       
elaborated forms1 representing the      
steady impact of so many powerful minds1
 representing1 moreover1 the organic    
necessity by which1 a given movement    
once started1 that movement is bound to 
proceed in a given direction1 these     
forms cannot be altered1 save           
infinitesimally1 to represent the       
particular state of the human soul at a 
given moment4 ,you might as well suppose
 that the human shape itself1 evolved   

through these millions of years1 could  
suddenly be accommodated to perfect     
representation of the momentary         
condition of certain human beings2 even 
the ,tricoteuses of the guillotine had  
the heads and arms of ordinary women1   
not the beaks and claws of harpies4     
,hence such expressiveness must be      
limited to microscopic alterations2 and1
 indeed1 one marvels at the modest      
demands of the art critics1 who are     
satisfied with the pucker of a frontal  
muscle of a ,praxitelean head as        
testimony to the terrible deep disorder 
in the post-,periclean ,greek spirit1   
and who can still find in the later     
paintings of ,titian1 when all that     
makes ,titian visible and admirable is  
deducted1 a something1 just a little je 
ne sais quoi1 which proves these later  
,titians to have originated in the      
,catholic reaction4 ,if the theory of   
art as the outcome of momentary         
conditions be limited to such           
particularities1 ,i am quite willing to 

accept it2 only1 such particularities do
 not constitute the large1 important and
 really valuable characteristics of art1
 and it matters very little by what they
 are produced4  ,how then do matters    
stand between art and civilisation8     
,here follows my hypothesis4 ,there is  
in the history of every art 7and for    
brevity's sake1 ,i include in this term 
every distinct category1 say1           
renaissance sculpture as distinguished  
from antique1 of the same art7 a moment 
when1 for one reason or other1 that art 
begins to come to the fore1 to bestir   
itself4 ,the circumstances of the nation
 and time make this art materially      
advantageous or spiritually attractive2 
the opening up of quarries1 the         
discovery of metallic alloys1 the       
necessity of roofing larger spaces1 the 
demand for a sedentary amusement1 for   
music to dance to in new social         
gatherings--any such humble reason1     
besides many others1 can cause one art  
to issue more particularly out of the   

limbo of the undeveloped1 or out of the 
lumber-room of the unused4  ,it is      
during this historic moment--a moment   
which may last years or scores of       
years--that1 as it seems to me1 an art  
can really be deeply affected by its    
surrounding civilisation4 ,for is it not
 called forth by that civilisation's    
requirements1 material or spiritual2 and
 is it not1 by the very fact of being   
thus new1 or at all events nascent1     
devoid of all conditioning factors1 save
 those which the civilisation and its   
requirements impose from without8 ,an   
art1 like everything vital1 takes shape 
not merely by pressure from without1 but
 much more by the necessities inherent  
in its own constitution1 the almost     
mechanical necessities by which all     
variable things can vary only in certain
 fashions4 ,all the natural selection1  
all the outer pressure in the world1    
cannot make a stone become larger by    
cutting1 cannot make colour less complex
 by mixing1 cannot make the ear perceive

 a dissonance more easily than a        
consonance1 cannot make the human mind  
turn back from problems once opened up1 
or revert instantaneously to effects it 
is sick of2 and a number of such        
immutable necessities constitute what we
 call the organism of an art1 which can 
therefore respond only in one way and   
not another to the influences of        
surrounding civilisation4 ,given the    
sculpture of the gina period1 it is     
impossible we should not arrive at the  
sculpture of the time of ,alexander3 the
 very constitution of clay and bronze1  
of marble1 chisel and mallet1 let alone 
that of the human mind1 makes it        
inevitable2 and you would have it       
inevitably if you could invert history1 
and put ,chronea in the place of        
,salamis4 ,but there is no reason why   
you should eventually get ,lysippian and
 ,praxitelean sculpture instead of      
,egyptian or ,assyrian1 say1 in the time
 of ,homer1 whenever that may have been4
 ,for the causes which forced ,greek    

sculpture along the line leading to     
,praxiteles and ,lysippus were not yet  
at work2 and had other forces1 say1 a   
preference for stone work instead of    
clay and bronze work1 a habit of        
,persian or ,gaulish garments1 of       
,lydian effeminate life instead of      
,dorian athleticism1 supervened1 had    
satraps ordered rock-reliefs of battles 
instead of burghers ordering brazen     
images of boxers and runners1           
,praxiteles and ,lysippus might have    
remained in mente ,dei1 if1 indeed1 even
 there4 ,similarly1 once given your     
,pisan sculptors1 ,giotto1 nay1 your    
imaginary ,cimabue1 you inevitably get  
your ,donatello1 ,masaccio1             
,ghirlandajo1 and eventually your       
,leonardo1 ,michelangelo1 and ,titian2  
for the problems of form and of         
sentiment1 the questions of perspective1
 anatomy1 dramatic expression1 lyric    
suggestion1 architectural decoration1   
were established1 in however rudimentary
 a manner1 as soon as painting was      

ordered to leave off doing idle1        
emotionless ,christs1 rows of gala      
saints and symbols of metaphysic        
theology1 and told to set about showing 
the episodes of ,scripture1 the things  
,christ and the ,apostles did1 and the  
places where they did them1 and the     
feelings they felt about it all2 told to
 make visible to the eye the gallant    
archangels1 the lovable ,madonnas1 the  
dear little baby ,saviours1 the angels  
with their flowers and songs1 all the   
human hope and pity and passion and     
tenderness which possessed the world in 
the days of ,st4 ,francis4  ,what       
pictures should we have seen if         
,christianity 7which was impossible7 had
 continued in the habits of thought and 
feeling of the earlier ,middle ,ages8   
,byzantine icones become frightfuler and
 frightfuler1 their theological piety   
perhaps sometimes relieved by odd wicked
 ,manichean symbolism2 all talent and   
sentiment abandoning painting1 perhaps  
to the advantage of music1 whose solemn 

period of recondite contrapuntal        
complexity--something corresponding to  
the ingenuities and mysticism of        
theology--might have come two centuries 
earlier1 and delighted the world instead
 of being unnoticed by it4 ,be this as  
it may1 there is no need for wondering1 
as people occasionally wonder1 how the  
solemn terror1 the sweetness1 pathos1 or
 serenity of men like ,signorelli1      
,botticelli1 or ,perugino1 nay          
,michelangelo1 ,raphael1 or ,giorgione1 
could have originated among ,malatestas1
 ,borgias1 ,poggios1 or ,aretines4 ,it  
did not4 ,and1 therefore1 since         
literature always precedes its more     
heavily cumbered fellow-servant art1 we 
must look for the literary counterpart  
of the painters of the ,renaissance     
among the writers who preceded them by  
many generations1 men more obviously in 
touch with the great medival revival3   
,dante1 ,boccaccio1 the compilers of the
 ,fioretti di ,san ,francesco1 and1 as  
we have just seen1 ,fra ,jacopone da    

,todi4   ,v  ,what art would there have 
been without that ,franciscan revival1  
or rather what emotional synthesis of   
life would art have had to record8 ,this
 speculation has been dismissed as      
futile1 because it is impossible to     
conceive that mankind could have gone on
 without some such enthusiastic return  
of faith in the goodness of things4 ,but
 another question remains to be         
answered1 remains to be asked2 and that 
is1 what was the spiritual meaning of   
the art which immediately preceded the  
,franciscan revival8 what was the       
emotional synthesis of life given by    
those who had come too early to partake 
in the new religion of love8  ,the      
question seems scarcely to have occurred
 to any one1 perhaps because the ,church
 found it expedient to obliterate1 to   
the best of her power1 all records of   
her terrible medival vicissitudes1 and  
to misinterpret1 for the benefit of     
purblind antiquarians1 the architectural
 symbolism of the earlier ,middle ,ages4

  ,since1 in the deciphering of such    
expressions of mankind's moods and      
intuitions1 scientific investigation is 
scarcely more important than the moods  
and intuitions of the looker-on1 it     
seems quite fitting that ,i should begin
 these suggestions about pre-,franciscan
 ,italian art by saying that some years 
ago there met by accident in my mind a  
certain impression of ,lombard          
twelfth-century art1 and a certain      
anecdote of ,lombard twelfth-century    
history4  ,it was at ,lucca1 a place    
most singularly rich in round-arched    
buildings1 that ,i was1 so to speak1    
overwhelmed by the fact that the        
,italian churches of immediately        
pre-,franciscan days possess by way of  
architectural ornamentation nothing but 
images of deformity and emblems of      
wickedness4 ,this fact1 apart from its  
historical bearing1 may serve also to   
illustrate a theory ,i have already put 
forth1 to wit1 that the only art which  
is necessarily expressive of            

contemporary thought and feeling is such
 as embodies very little skill1 and as  
expresses but very few organic          
necessities of form1 both of which can  
result only from the activity and the   
influence of generations of craftsmen2  
since in these ,lucchese churches the   
architectural forms proclaim one thing  
and the sculptural details another4 ,the
 first speak only of logic and serenity2
 the second only of the most abominable 
nightmare4 ,the truth is1 that these    
churches of ,lucca1 and their more      
complex and perfect prototypes1 like    
,sant' ,ambrogio of ,milan1 and ,san    
,miniato of ,florence1 are not the real 
outcome of the century which built them4
 ,it is quite natural that1 with their  
stately proportions1 their harmonious   
restrained vaultings1 their easy1       
efficient colonnades1 their ample and   
equable illumination1 above all their   
obvious pleasure in constructive logic1 
these churches should affect us as being
 classic as opposed to romantic1 and    

even in a very large measure actually   
antique2 for they have come1 through    
generations as long-lived and as scanty 
as those of the patriarchs1 straight    
from the classic1 the antique2          
grandchildren of the courts of law and  
temples of ,pagan ,rome1 children of the
 ,byzantine basilicas of early          
,christian days2 strange survivals from 
distant antiquity1 testifying to the    
lack of artistic initiative in the      
barbarous centuries between ,constantine
 to ,barbarossa4 ,no period in the      
world's history could have produced     
anything so organic without the work of 
previous periods2 and when the ,middle  
,ages did in their turn produce an      
architecture original to themselves1 it 
was by altering these still classic     
forms into something absolutely         
different3 that thirteenth-century      
,gothic which answers to the material   
and necessities of the democratic and   
romantic times heralded by ,st4         
,francis4 ,the twelfth century1         

therefore1 could not express itself in  
the architectural forms and harmonies of
 those ,lucchese churches2 but it could 
express itself in their rude and        
thoroughly original sculpture4 ,hence1  
while there is in them no indication of 
the symbolism of the coming ogival      
,gothic1 there is no trace either of the
 symbolism belonging to ,byzantine      
buildings4 ,none of the ,gothic imagery 
testifying faith and joy in ,god and    
,his creatures2 no effigies of saints2  
at most only of the particular          
building's patron2 no ,madonnas1 infant 
,christs1 burning cherubim1 singing and 
playing angels1 armed romantic ,st4     
,michael or ,st4 ,george2 none of those 
goodly rows of kings and queens guarding
 the portals1 or of those charming      
youthful heads marking the spring of the
 pointed arch1 the curve of the         
spandril4 ,nor1 on the other hand1 any  
remnant of ,byzantine devices of the    
date-loaded palms1 the peacocks and     
doves1 the bunches of grapes1 the       

serene1 almost ,pagan imagery which     
graces the churches of the ,clian and   
,aventine1 the basilicas of ,ravenna1   
and which would seem the necessary      
accompaniment of this stately           
,neo-,byzantine architecture4 ,the      
churches of ,lucca1 like their          
contemporaries and immediate            
predecessors throughout ,tuscany and    
,north ,italy1 are ornamented only with 
symbols of terror4#c    ,footnote #c3   
,the ,cathedral of ,assisi1 a very early
 medival building1   affords a singular 
instance of the meeting of the last     
remnant of that   serene symbolism of   
,roman and ,byzantine-,roman churches   
with the usual   ,lombard horrors4 ,a   
fine passion-flower or vine encircles   
the porch1   peacocks strut and drink   
from an altar1 while1 on the other hand1
 lions   mangle a man and a sheep1 and  
horrible composite monsters1 resembling 
the prehistoric plesiosaurus1 bite each 
other's necks4 ,a ,madonna and   ,christ
 are enthroned on ,byzantine seats1 the 

weight resting on human   beings1 not so
 realistically crushed as those of      
,ferrara and ,milan1 but   suffering4   
,there is a similar meeting of symbols  
in the neighbouring   ,cathedral of     
,foligno2 and1 so far as ,i could see1  
the ,umbrian valley   is rich in very   
early churches of this type1 sometimes  
lovely in   ornamentation1 like ,s4     
,pietro of ,spoleto1 sometimes very     
rude1 like   the tiny twin churches of  
,bevagna4  ,the minds of the sculptors  
seem haunted by the terror of wicked    
wild beasts1 irresistible and           
mysterious1 as in the night fears of    
children4 ,the chief ornament of ,st4   
,michael of ,lucca is a curious band of 
black and white inlaid work1 of which   
,mr4 ,ruskin has said1 with the optimism
 of an orthodox symbolist1 that it shows
 that the people of ,lucca loved        
hunting1 even as the people of ,florence
 loved the sciences and crafts          
symbolised on their belfry4 ,but the two
 or three solitary mannikins of the     

frieze of ,st4 ,michael exemplify not   
the pleasures1 but the terrors of the   
chase2 or rather they are not hunting1  
but being hunted by the wild beasts all 
round2 attacked rather than pursuing1   
flying on their little horses from the  
unequal fight1 or struggling under the  
hug of bears1 the grip of lions2 never  
does one of them carry off a dead       
creature or deal a mortal blow4 ,the    
wild beasts are masters of the          
situation1 the men mere intruders1      
speedily worsted2 and this is proved by 
the fact that where the wolves1 lions1  
and bears are not struggling with human 
beings1 they are devouring each another1
 the appearance of the poor little      
scared men being only an interlude in   
the everlasting massacre of one beast by
 another4 ,the people who worked this   
frieze may have pretended1 perhaps1 that
 they were expressing the pleasures of  
hunting2 but what they actually realised
 was evidently the horrors of a world   
given over to ravening creatures4 ,the  

porch sculptures of this and all the    
other churches of ,lucca remove all     
further doubt upon this point4 ,for here
 what human beings there lie under the  
belly and in the claws 7sometimes a mere
 horrid mangled human head7 of the lions
 and lionesses who project like         
beamheads out of the wall or carry the  
porch columns on their back3 scowling1  
murderous creatures1 with which the     
twelfth and early thirteenth century    
ornamented even houses and public tanks 
like ,fonte ,branda1 which less         
terrified generations adorned with      
personified virtues4 ,the nightmare of  
wild beasts is carried on in the inside 
of the churches3 there again1 under the 
columns of the pulpits are the lions and
 lionesses gnashing their teeth1 tearing
 stags and gazelles and playing with    
human heads4 ,and1 to increase the      
horror1 there also loom on the capitals 
of the nave strange unknown birds of    
prey1 fantastic terrible vultures and   
griffins4 ,everywhere massacre and      

nightmare in those churches of ,lucca4  
,and the impression they made on my mind
 was naturally strengthened by the      
recollection of the similar and often   
more terrible carvings in other places1 
,milan1 ,pavia1 ,modena1 ,volterra1 the 
,pistoiese and ,lucchese hill-towns1 in 
all other places rich in pre-,franciscan
 art4 ,above all1 there came to my mind 
the image of the human figures which in 
most of such pre-,franciscan places     
express the other half of all this      
terror1 the feelings of mankind in this 
kingdom of wicked1 mysterious wild      
beasts4 ,i allude to the terrible       
figures1 crushed into dwarfs and        
hunchbacks by the weight of porch       
columns and pulpits1 amid which the     
tragic creature1 with broken spine and  
starting eyes1 of ,sant' ,ambrogio of   
,milan is1 through sheer horrified      
realisation1 a sort of masterpiece4 ,but
 there are wild beasts1 lions and       
lionesses1 among the works of           
thirteenth-century sculptors1 and lions 

and lionesses continue for a long time  
as ornaments of pure ,gothic            
architecture4 ,of course2 but it was the
 very nearness of the resemblance of    
these later creatures that brought home 
to me the utterly different1 the uniform
 and extraordinary character1 of those  
of earlier date3 the emblem was kept by 
the force of tradition1 but the meaning 
thereof was utterly changed4 ,the       
,pisani1 for instance1 carved lions and 
lionesses under all their pulpits2 some 
of them are merely looking dignified1   
others devouring their prey1 but they   
are conceived by a semi-heraldic        
decorator or an intelligent naturalist2 
nay1 the spirit of ,st4 ,francis has    
entered into the sculptors1 the feeling 
for animal piety and happiness1 to the  
extent of representing the lionesses as 
suckling and tenderly licking their     
whelps4 ,the men of that time cannot    
even conceive1 in their newly acquired  
faith and joy in ,god and ,his          
creatures1 what feelings must have been 

uppermost in the men who first set the  
fashion of adorning churches with       
men-devouring monsters4  ,such were my  
impressions during those days spent     
among the serene ,lucchese churches and 
their terrible emblems4 ,and under their
 influence1 thinking of the times which 
had built the churches and carved the   
emblems1 there came to my memory a very 
curious anecdote1 unearthed by the      
learned ecclesiastical historian ,tocco1
 and consigned in his extremely         
suggestive book on medival heresies4 ,a 
certain priest of ,milan became so      
revered for his sanctity and learning1  
and for the marvellous cures he worked1 
that the people insisted on burying him 
before the high altar1 and resorting to 
his tomb as to that of a saint4 ,the    
holy man became even more undoubtedly   
saintly after his death2 and in the face
 of the miracles which were wrought by  
his intercession1 it became necessary to
 proceed to his beatification4 ,the     
,church was about to establish his      

miraculous sainthood1 when1 in the      
official process of collecting the      
necessary information1 it was discovered
 that the supposed saint was a          
,manichean heretic1 a ,catharus1 a      
believer in the wicked ,demiurgus1 the  
creating ,satan1 the defeat of the      
spiritual ,god1 and the uselessness of  
the coming of ,christ4 ,it was quite    
probable that he had spat upon the      
crucifix as a symbol of the devil's     
triumph2 it was quite possible that he  
had said masses to ,satan as the true   
creator of all matter4 ,be this as it   
may1 that priest's half-canonised bones 
were publicly burnt and their ashes     
scattered to the wind4 ,the anecdote    
shows that the ,manichean heresies1 some
 ascetic and tender1 others brutal and  
foul1 had made their way into the most  
holy places4 ,and1 indeed1 when we come 
to think of it1 no longer startled by so
 extraordinary a revelation1 this was   
the second time that ,christianity ran  
the risk of becoming a dualistic        

religion--a religion1 like some of its  
,asiatic rivals1 of pessimism1          
transcendentally spiritual or cynically 
base according to the individual        
believer4 ,nor is it surprising that    
such views1 identical with those of the 
transcendental theologians of the fourth
 century1 and equivalent to the         
philosophical pessimism of our own day1 
as expounded particularly by            
,schopenhauer1 should have found favour 
among the best and most thoughtful men  
of the early ,middle ,ages4 ,in those   
stern and ferocious1 yet tender-hearted 
and most questioning times1 there must  
have been something logically           
satisfying1 and satisfying also to the  
harrowed sympathies1 in the conviction1 
if not in the dogma1 that the soul of   
man had not been made by the maker of   
the foul and cruel world of matter2 and 
that the suffering of all good men's    
hearts corresponded with the suffering1 
the humiliation of a mysteriously       
dethroned ,god of the ,spirit4 ,and what

 a light it must have shed1 completely  
solving all terrible questions1 upon the
 story of ,christ's martyrdom1 so       
constantly uppermost in the thoughts and
 feelings of medival men6  ,now1 the men
 who built ,sant' ,ambrogio#d and ,san  
,miniato a ,monte1 who carved the stone 
nightmares1 the ravening lions1 the     
squashed and writhing human figures of  
the early ,lombard and ,tuscan churches1
 were the contemporaries of that        
,manichean priest of ,milan1 who1       
although a saint1 had believed in the   
triumph of the ,devil and the wickedness
 of the ,creator4 ,and among his        
fellow-heretics--those heretics lurking 
everywhere1 and most among the most     
religious--should we not expect to find 
the mysterious guilds of ,lombard       
freemasons1 and the craftsmen to whom   
they gradually revealed their secrets1  
affirming in their stone symbolism to   
the already initiated1 and suggesting to
 the uninitiated1 their terrible creed  
of inevitable misery on earth8 ,nay1 can

 we not imagine some of them1 even as   
the ,templars were accused of doing 7and
 the ,templars were patrons1 remember1  
of important guilds of masons71         
propitiating the ,great ,enemy by       
service and ritual1 proclaiming his     
,power1 even as the ancients propitiated
 the divinities of darkness whom they   
hated8 ,for the ,god of ,good1 we can   
fancy them reasoning1 the ,pure ,spirit 
who will triumph when all this cruel    
universe goes to pieces1 can wish for no
 material altars1 and can have no use   
for churches4 ,or did not the idea of a 
dualism become confused into a          
vacillating1 contradictory notion of a  
,power at once good and evil1 something 
inscrutable1 unthinkable1 but inspiring 
less confidence than terror8            
,footnote #d3 ,here are a few dates1 as 
given by ,murray's ,handbooks4          
,fiesole ,cathedral begun #ajbh2 ,s4    
,miniato a ,monte1 #ajac2 ,pisa         
,cathedral   consecrated #aaah2         
baptistery 7lower storey71 #aaec4 ,lucca

 faade   7interior later71 #abjd2 ,s4   
,frediano of ,lucca begun by ,perharit  
#fga1   altered in twelfth century2 ,s4 
,michele faade1 #aahh4 ,pistoia3 ,s4    
,giovanni ,evangelista by ,gruamons1    
#aaff2 ,s4 ,andrea1 also by ,gruamons2  
,s4   ,bartolomeo by ,rudolphinus1      
#aafg4 ,pulpit of ,s4 ,ambrogio of      
,milan1 #abja2   church traditionally   
begun about #hfh1 probably much more    
modern4  ,whatever the secret of those  
sculptured monsters1 this much is       
historically certain1 that a dualistic1 
profoundly pessimist belief had         
honeycombed ,christianity throughout    
,provence and ,northern and ,central    
,italy4 ,but for this knowledge it would
 be impossible to explain the triumphant
 reception given to ,st4 ,francis and   
his sublime1 illogical optimism1 his    
train of converted wolves1 sympathising 
birds1 and saints and angels mixing     
familiarly with mortal men4 ,the        
,franciscan revival has the strength and
 success of a reaction4 ,and in sweeping

 away the pessimistic terrors of        
mankind1 it swept away1 by what is at   
least a strange coincidence1 the        
nightmare sculpture of the old ,lombard 
stonemasons4  ,what the things were     
which made room for the carved virgins  
and saints1 the lute-playing angels and 
nibbling squirrels and twittering birds 
of ,gothic sculpture1 ,i wish to put    
before the reader in one significant    
example4 ,the ,cathedral of ,ferrara is 
a building which1 although finished in  
the thirteenth century1 had been begun  
and consecrated so early as #aace1 and  
the porch thereof1 as is frequently the 
case1 appears to have been erected      
earlier than other portions4 ,of this   
porch two pillars are supported by      
life-sized figures1 one bearded1 one    
beardless1 both dressed in the girdled  
smock of the early ,middle ,ages4 ,the  
enormous weight of the porch is resting1
 not conventionally 7as in the antique  
caryatid7 on the head1 but on the spine2
 and the head is protruded forwards in a

 fearful effort to save itself1 the face
 most frightfully convulsed3 another    
moment and the spine must be broken and 
the head droop freely down4 ,before the 
portals1 but not supporting anything1   
are six animals of red marble--a        
griffin1 two lions1 two lionesses1 or   
what seem such1 and a second griffin4   
,the central lions are well preserved1  
highly realistic1 but also decorative2  
one of them is crushing a large ram1    
another an ox1 both creatures splendidly
 rendered4 ,i imagine these central     
lions to be more recent 7having perhaps 
replaced others7 than their neighbours1 
which are obliterated to the extent of  
being lions or lionesses only by        
guesswork4 ,these nameless feline       
creatures hold what appear to be        
portions of sheep1 one of them having at
 its flank a curious excrescence like   
the stinging scorpion of the ,mithra    
groups4 ,the griffins1 on the other     
hand1 although every detail is rubbed   
out1 are splendid in power and          

expression--great lion-bodied creatures1
 with gigantic eagle's beak1 manifestly 
birds rather than beasts1 with the      
muscular neck and probably the movement 
of a hawk4 ,like hawks1 they have not   
swooped on to their prey1 but let       
themselves drop on to it1 arriving not  
on their belly like lions1 but on their 
wings like birds4 ,the prey is about a  
fourth of the griffin's size4 ,one of   
the griffins has swooped down upon a    
wain1 whose two wheels just protrude on 
either side of him2 the heads of two    
oxen are under his paws1 and the head1  
open mouthed1 with terrified streaming  
hair1 of the driver2 beasts and men have
 come down flat on their knees4 ,the    
other griffin has captured a horse and  
his rider2 the horse has shied and      
fallen sideways beneath the griffin's   
loins1 with head protruding on one side 
and hoofs on the other1 the empty       
stirrup is still swinging4 ,the rider1  
in mail-shirt and ,crusader's helmet1   
has been thrown forward1 and lies       

between the griffin's claws1 his useless
 triangular shield clasped tight against
 his breast4 ,perhaps merely because the
 attitude of the two griffins had to be 
symmetrical1 and the horse and rider    
filled up the space under their belly   
less closely than the cart1 oxen1 and   
driver1 there arises the suggestive fact
 that the poor man and his bullocks are 
crushed more mercilessly than the rich  
man and his horse4 ,but be this as it   
may1 poor and rich1 serf and knight1 the
 griffin of destiny encompasses and     
pounces upon each2 and the talons of    
evil pin down and the beak of misery    
rends with impartial cruel certainty4   
,such is the account of the world and   
man1 of justice and mercy1 recorded for 
us by the stonemasons of ,ferrara4      
,,vi  ,as with the emotional1 the lyric 
element in ,renaissance art1 so also    
with the narrative or dramatic2 it      
belongs not to the original1 real1 or at
 all events primitive ,christianity of  
the time when the ,man ,jesus walked on 

earth in the body1 but to that day when 
,he arose once more1 no less a ,christ1 
be sure1 in the soul of those men of the
 ,middle ,ages4 ,the ,evangelists had   
never felt--why should they1 good1      
fervent ,jewish laymen8--the magic of   
the baby ,christ as it was felt by those
 medival ascetics1 suddenly reawakened  
to human feeling4 ,there is neither     
tenderness nor reverence in the ,gospels
 for the mother of the ,lord2 some      
rather rough words on her motherhood2   
and that mention in ,st4 ,john1 intended
 so evidently to bring the ,evangelist1 
or supposed ,evangelist1 into closer    
communion with ,christ1 not to draw     
attention to ,christ's mother4 ,yet out 
of those slight1 and perhaps almost     
contemptuous indications1 the ,middle   
,ages have made three or four perfect   
and wonderful types of glorified        
womanhood3 the ,mother in adoration1 the
 crowned1 enthroned ,virgin1 the ,mater 
,gloriosa2 the broken-hearted ,mother1  
,mater ,dolorosa1 as found at the foot  

of the cross or fainting at the         
deposition therefrom2 types more        
complete and more immortal than that of 
any ,greek divinity2 above all1 perhaps1
 the mere young mother holding the child
 for kindly1 reverent folk to look at1  
for the little ,st4 ,john to play with1 
or alone1 looking at it1 thinking of it 
in solitude and silence3 the whole      
lovingness of all creatures rising in a 
clear flame to heaven4 ,nay1 is not the 
suffering ,christ a fresh creation of   
the ,middle ,ages1 made really to bear  
the sorrows of a world more sorrowful   
than that of ,judea8 ,that strange      
,christ of the ,resurrection1 as painted
 occasionally by ,angelico1 by ,pier    
della ,francesca1 particularly in a     
wonderful small panel by ,botticelli2   
the ,christ not yet triumphant at       
,easter1 but risen waist-high in the    
sepulchre1 sometimes languidly seated on
 its rim1 stark1 bloodless1 with scarce 
seeing eyes1 and the motionless agony of
 one recovering from a swoon1 enduring  

the worst of all his martyrdom1 the     
return to life in that chill1 bleak     
landscape1 where the sparse trees bend  
in the dawn wind2 returning from death  
to a new1 an endless series of          
sufferings1 even as that legend made him
 answer the wayfaring ,peter1 returning 
to be crucified once more--iterum       
crucifigi4  ,all this is the lyric side1
 on which1 in art as in poetry1 there   
are as many variations as there are     
individual temperaments1 and the variety
 in ,renaissance art is therefore       
endless4 ,let us consider the narrative 
or dramatic side1 on which1 as ,i have  
elsewhere tried to show1 all that could 
be done was done1 only repetition       
ensuing1 very early in the history of   
,italian art1 by the ,pisans1 ,giotto   
and ,giotto's followers4  ,these have   
their counterpart1 their precursors1 in 
the writers and reciters of devotional  
romances4  ,among the most remarkable of
 these is the ,life of the ,magdalen1   
printed in certain editions of ,frate   

,domenico ,cavalca's well known charming
 translations of ,st4 ,jerome's ,lives  
of the ,saints4 ,who the author may be  
seems quite doubtful1 though the        
familiar and popular style might suggest
 some small burgher turned ,franciscan  
late in life4 ,as the spiritual love    
lyrics of ,jacopone stand to the        
,canzonieri of ,dante and of ,dante's   
circle of poets1 so does this devout    
novel stand to ,boccaccio's more serious
 tales1 and even to his ,fiammetta2     
only1 ,i think that the relation of the 
two novelists is the reverse of that of 
the poets2 for1 with an infinitely ruder
 style1 the biographer of the ,magdalen1
 whoever he was1 has also an infinitely 
finer psychological sense than          
,boccaccio4 ,indeed1 this little novel  
ought to be reprinted1 like ,aucasin et 
,nicolette1 as one of the absolutely    
satisfactory works1 so few but so       
exquisite1 of the ,middle ,ages4  ,it is
 the story of the relations of ,jesus   
with the family of ,lazarus1 whose      

sister ,mary is here identified with the
 ,magdalen2 and it is1 save for the     
account of the ,passion1 which forms the
 nucleus1 a perfect tissue of           
inventions4 ,indeed1 the author explains
 very simply that he is narrating not   
how he knows of a certainty that things 
did happen1 but how it pleases him to   
think that they might have happened4    
,for the man puts his whole heart in the
 story1 and alters1 amplifies1 explains 
away till his heart is satisfied4 ,the  
,magdalen1 for instance1 was not all the
 sort of woman that foolish people      
think4 ,if she took to scandalous       
courses1 it was only from despair at    
being forsaken by her bridegroom1 who   
left her on the wedding-day to follow   
,christ to the desert1 and who was no   
other than the ,evangelist ,john4       
,moreover1 let no vile imputations be   
put upon it2 in those days1 when        
everybody was so good and modest1 it    
took very little indeed 7in fact1       
nothing which our wicked times would    

notice at all7 to get a woman into      
disrepute4  ,judged by our low          
fourteenth-century standard1 this       
sinning ,magdalen would have been only a
 little over-cheerful1 a little free1   
barely what in the fourteenth century is
 called 7the mere notion would have     
horrified the house of ,lazarus7 a      
trifle fast2 our unknown                
,franciscan--for ,i take him to be a    
,franciscan--insists very much on her   
having sung and whistled on the         
staircase1 a thing no modest lady of    
,bethany would then have done2 but      
which1 my dear brethren1 is after       
all4444  ,this sinful ,magdalen1        
repenting of her sins1 such as they are1
 is living with her sister ,mary and her
 brother ,lazarus2 the whole little     
family bound to ,jesus by the miracle   
which had brought ,lazarus back to life4
 ,jesus and his mother are their guests 
during ,passion week2 and the awful     
tragedy of the world and of heaven      
passes1 in the anonymous narrative1     

across the narrow stage of that little  
burgher's house4 ,as in the art of the  
fifteenth century1 the chief emotional  
interest of the ,passion is thrown not  
on the ,apostles1 scarcely on ,jesus1   
but upon the two female figures1 facing 
each other as in some fresco of         
,perugino1 the ,magdalen and the ,mother
 of ,christ4 ,facing one another1 but   
how different6 ,this ,magdalen has the  
terrific gesture of despair of one of   
those colossal women of ,signorelli's1  
flung down1 as a town by earthquake1 at 
the foot of the cross4 ,she was pardoned
 because she had loved much--quia multo 
amavit4 ,the unknown friar knew what    
that meant as well as his contemporary  
,dante1 when ,love showed him the vision
 of ,beatrice's death4 ,never was there 
such heart-breaking as that of his      
heroine3 she becomes almost the chief   
personage of the ,passion2 for she knows
 not merely all the martyrdom of the    
,beloved1 feels all the agonies of ,his 
flesh and ,his spirit1 but knows--how   

well6--that she has lost ,him4 ,opposite
 this terrible convulsive ,magdalen1    
sobbing1 tearing her hair and rolling on
 the ground1 is the other heart-broken  
woman1 the mother2 but how different6   
,she remains maternal through her grief1
 with motherly thoughtfulness for       
others2 for to the real mother 7how     
different in this to the lover67 there  
will always remain in the world some one
 to think of4 ,she bridles her sorrow2  
when ,john at last hesitatingly suggests
 that they must not stay all night on   
,calvary1 she turns quietly homeward2   
and1 once at home1 tries to make the    
mourners eat1 tries to eat with them1   
makes them take rest that dreadful      
night4 ,for such a mother there shall   
not be mere bitterness in death2 and    
here follows a most beautiful and       
touching invention3 the glorified       
,christ1 returning from ,limbo1 takes   
the happy1 delivered souls to visit his 
mother4  ,and ,messer ,gies having      
tarried awhile with them in that place1 

said3 ',now let us go and make my mother
 happy1 who with most gentle tears is   
calling upon me4' ,and they went        
forthwith1 and came to the room where   
our ,lady was praying1 and with gentle  
tears asking ,god to give her back her  
son1 saying it was to-day the third day4
 ,and as she stayed thus1 ,messer ,gies 
drew near to her on one side1 and said3 
',peace and cheerfulness be with thee1  
,holy ,mother4' ,and straightway she    
recognised the voice of her blessed son1
 and opened her eyes and beheld him thus
 glorious1 and threw herself down wholly
 on the ground and worshipped him4 ,and 
the ,lord ,jesus knelt himself down like
 her2 and then they rose to their feet  
and embraced one another most sweetly1  
and gave each other peace1 and then went
 and sat together1 while all the holy   
people from ,limbo looked on in         
admiration1 and knelt down one by one1  
first the ,baptist1 and ,adam and ,eve1 
and all the others1 saluting the mother 
of ,christ1 while the angels sang the   

end of all sorrows4   ,,vii  ,there     
would be much to say on this subject4   
,one might point out1 for instance1 not 
only that ,dante has made the lady he   
loved in his youth into the heroine--a  
heroine smiling in fashion more         
womanlike than theological--of his      
vision of hell and heaven2 but what     
would have been even less possible at   
any previous moment of the world's      
history1 he has interwoven his theogony 
so closely with strands of most human   
emotion and passion 7think of that most 
poignant of love dramas in the very     
thick of hell671 that1 instead of a     
representation1 a chart1 so to speak1 of
 long-forgotten philosophical systems1  
his poem has become a picture1 pattern  
within pattern1 of the life of all      
things3 flowers blowing1 trees waving1  
men and women moving and speaking in    
densest crowds among the flaming rocks  
of hell1 the steps of purgatory1 the    
planispheres of heaven's stars making   
the groundwork of that wondrous         

tapestry4 ,but it is better to read     
,dante than to read about ,dante1 so ,i 
let him be4  ,on the other hand1 and    
lest some one take ,puritanic umbrage at
 my remarks on early ,italian art1 and  
deprecate the notion that religious     
painters could be so very human1 ,i     
shall say a few parting words about the 
religious painter1 the saint par        
excellence1 ,i mean the ,blessed        
,angelico4 ,heaven forbid ,i should     
attempt to turn him into a brother      
,lippo1 of the ,landor or ,browning     
pattern6 ,he was very far indeed1 let   
alone from profanity1 even from such    
flesh and blood feeling as that of      
,jacopone and scores of other blessed   
ones4 ,he was1 emotionally1 rather      
bloodless2 and whatsoever energy he had 
probably went in tussels with the       
technical problems of the day1 of which 
he knew much more1 for all his          
cloistered look1 than ,i suspected when 
,i wrote of him before4 ,angelico1 to   
return to the question1 was not a ,st4  

,francis1 a ,fra ,jacopone4 ,but even   
,angelico had his passionately human    
side1 though it was only the humanness  
of a nice child4 ,in a life of hard     
study1 and perhaps hard penance1 that   
childish blessed one nourished childish 
desires--desires for green grass and    
flowers1 for gay clothes1#e for         
prettily-dressed pink and lilac         
playfellows1 for the kissing and hugging
 in which he had no share1 for the games
 of the children outside the convent    
gate4 ,how human1 how ineffably full of 
a good child's longing1 is not his      
vision of ,paradise6 ,the gaily-dressed 
angels are leading the little cowled    
monks--little baby black and white      
things1 with pink faces like sugar lambs
 and ,easter rabbits--into deep1 deep   
grass quite full of flowers1 the sort of
 grass every child on this wicked earth 
has been cruelly forbidden to wade in6  
,they fall into those angels' arms1     
hugging them with the fervour of        
children in the act of loving a cat or a

 dog4 ,they join hands with those       
angels1 outside the radiant pink and    
blue toy-box towers of the celestial    
,jerusalem1 and go singing ,round the   
,mulberry ,bush much more like the      
babies in ,kate ,greenaway's books than 
like the ,fathers of the ,church in     
,dante4 ,the joys of ,paradise1 for this
 dear man of ,god1 are not confined to  
sitting ad dexteram domini4444          
,footnote #e3 ,mme4 ,darmesteter's      
charming essays ,the ,end of the ,middle
   ,ages1 contain some amusing instances
 of such repressed love of finery   on  
the part of saints4 ,compare ,fioretti  
xx41 ,and these garments of   such fair 
cloth1 which we wear 7in ,heaven7 are   
given us by ,god in   exchange for our  
rough frocks4  ,di questo nostro dolce  
,fratellino2 that line of ,jacopone da  
,todi1 hymning to the child ,christ1    
sums up1 in the main1 the vivifying     
spirit of early ,italian art2 nay1 is it
 not this mingled emotion of tenderness1
 of reverence1 and deepest brotherhood  

which made ,st4 ,francis claim sun and  
birds1 even the naughty wolf1 for       
brethren8 ,this feeling becomes         
embodied1 above all1 in the very various
 army of charming angels2 and more      
particularly1 perhaps1 because ,venice  
had no other means of expression than   
painting1 in the singing and playing    
angels of the old ,venetians4 ,these    
angels1 whether they be the girlish1    
long-haired creatures1 robed in orange  
and green1 of ,carpaccio2 or the naked  
babies1 with dimpled little legs and    
arms1 and filetted silky curls of ,gian 
,bellini1 seem to concentrate into music
 all the many things which that strong  
pious ,venice1 tongue-tied by dialect1  
had no other way of saying2 and we feel 
to this day that it sounds in our hearts
 and attunes them to worship or love or 
gentle contemplation4 ,the sound of     
those lutes and pipes1 of those childish
 voices1 heard and felt by the other    
holy persons in those pictures--,roman  
knight ,sebastian1 ,cardinal ,jerome1   

wandering palmer ,roch1 and all the     
various lovely princesses with towers   
and palm boughs in their hands--moreover
 brings them together1 unites them in   
one solemn blissfulness round the       
enthroned ,madonna4 ,these are not      
people come together by accident to part
 again accidentally2 they are eternal1  
part of a vision disclosed to the pious 
spectator1 a crowning of the ,mass with 
its wax-lights and songs4  ,but the     
,venetian playing and singing angels are
 there for something more important     
still4 ,those excellent old painters    
understood quite well that in the midst 
of all this official1 doge-like         
ceremony1 it was hard1 very hard lines  
for the poor little ,christ ,child1     
having to stand or lie for ever1 for    
ever among those grown-up saints1 on the
 knees of that majestic throning        
,madonna2 since the oligarchy1 until    
very late1 allowed no little playfellow 
to approach the ,christ ,child1 bringing
 lambs and birds and such-like1 and     

leading ,him off to pick flowers as in  
the pictures of those democratic        
,tuscans and ,umbrians4 ,none of that   
silly familiarity1 said stately         
,venetian piety4 ,but the painters were 
kinder4 ,they incarnated their sympathy 
in the baby music-making angels1 and    
bade them be friendly to the ,christ    
,child4 ,they are so2 and nowhere does  
it strike one so much as in that fine   
picture1 formerly called ,bellini1 but  
more probably ,alvise ,vivarini1 at the 
,redentore1 where the ,virgin1 in her   
lacquer-scarlet mantle1 has ceased to be
 human altogether1 and become a lovely  
female ,buddha in contemplation1        
absolutely indifferent to the poor      
little sleeping ,christ4 ,the little    
angels have been sorry4 ,coming to make 
their official music1 they have brought 
each his share of heaven's dessert3 a   
little offering of two peaches1 three   
figs1 and three cherries on one stalk   
7so precious therefore671 placed neatly1
 spread out to look much1 not without   

consciousness of the greatness of the   
sacrifice4 ,they have not1 those two    
little angels1 forgotten1 ,i am sure1   
the gift they have brought1 during that 
rather weary music-making before the    
inattentive ,madonna4 ,they keep on     
thinking how ,christ will awake to find 
all those precious things1 and they     
steel their little hearts to the        
sacrifice4 ,the little bird who has come
 7invited for like reason7 and perched  
on the curtain bar1 understands it all1 
respects their feelings1 and refrains   
from pecking4  ,such is the heart of the
 saints1 and out of it comes the painted
 triumph of ,el ,magno ,jesulino4       
,,the ,,imaginative ,,art ,,of ,,the    
,,renaissance   ,i  ,in a ,florentine   
street through which ,i pass most days1 
is a house standing a little back 7the  
place is called the ,square of          
,purgatory71 the sight of which lends to
 that sordid street of stained palace   
backs1 stables1 and dingy little shops1 
a certain charm and significance1 in    

virtue solely of three roses carved on a
 shield over a door4 ,the house is a    
humble one of the sixteenth century1 and
 its three roses have just sufficient   
resemblance to roses1 with their        
pincushion heads and straight little    
leaves1 for us to know them as such4    
,yet that rude piece of heraldic        
carving1 that mere indication that some 
one connected with the house once       
thought of roses1 is sufficient1 as ,i  
say1 to give a certain pleasurableness  
to the otherwise quite unpleasurable    
street4  ,this is by no means an        
isolated instance4 ,in various places1  
as emblems of various guilds or         
confraternities1 one meets similarly    
carved1 on lintel or escutcheon1 sheaves
 of lilies1 or what is pleasanter still1
 that favourite device of the           
,renaissance 7become well known as the  
monogram of the painter ,benvenuto      
,garofalo71 a jar with five clove-pinks4
 ,and on each occasion of meeting them1 
that carved lily and those graven       

clove-pinks1 like the three roses in the
 ,square of ,purgatory1 have shed a     
charm over the street1 given me a       
pleasure more subtle than that derived  
from any bed of real lilies1 or pot of  
real clove-pinks1 or bush of real roses2
 colouring and scenting the street with 
this imaginary colour and perfume4 ,what
 train of thought has been set up8 ,it  
would be hard to say4 ,something too    
vague to be perceived except as a whole 
impression of pleasure2 a half-seen     
vision1 doubtless1 of the real flowers1 
of the places where they grow2 perhaps  
even a faint reminiscence1 a dust of    
broken and pounded fragments1 of stories
 and songs into which roses enter1 or   
lilies1 or clove-pinks4  ,hereby hangs a
 whole question of sthetics4 ,those     
three stone roses are the type of one   
sort of imaginative art2 of one sort of 
art which1 beyond or independent of the 
charm of visible beauty1 possesses a    
charm that acts directly upon the       
imagination4 ,such charm1 or at least   

such interest1 may be defined as the    
literary element in art2 and ,i should  
give it that name1 did it not suggest a 
dependence upon the written word which  
,i by no means intend to imply4 ,it is  
the element which1 unlike actual        
representation1 is possessed by         
literature as well as by art2 indeed1 it
 is the essence of the former1 as actual
 representation is of the latter4 ,but  
it belongs to art1 in the cases when it 
belongs to it at all1 not because the   
artist is in any way influenced by the  
writer1 but merely because the forms    
represented by the artist are most often
 the forms of really existing things1   
and fraught1 therefore1 with            
associations to all such as know them2  
and because1 also1 the artist who       
presents these forms is a human being1  
and as such not only sees and draws1 but
 feels and thinks2 because1 in short1   
literature being merely the expression  
of habits of thought and emotion1 all   
such art as deals with the images of    

real objects tends more or less1 in so  
far as it is a human being1 to conform  
to its type4  ,this is one kind of      
artistic imagination1 this which ,i have
 rudely symbolised in the symbol of the 
three carved roses--the imagination     
which delights the mind by holding      
before it some charming or uncommon     
object1 and conjuring up therewith a    
whole train of feeling and fancy2 the   
school1 we might call it1 of            
intellectual decoration1 of arabesques  
formed not of lines and colours1 but of 
associations and suggestions4 ,and to   
this school of the three carved roses in
 the ,square of ,purgatory belong1 among
 others1 ,angelico1 ,benozzo1           
,botticelli1 and all those ,venetians   
who painted piping shepherds1 and       
ruralising magnificent ladies absorbed  
in day-dreams4  ,but besides this kind  
of imagination in art1 there is another 
and totally different4 ,it is the       
imagination of how an event would have  
looked2 the power of understanding and  

showing how an action would have taken  
place1 and how that action would have   
affected the bystanders2 a sort of      
second-sight1 occasionally rising to the
 point of revealing1 not merely the     
material aspect of things and people1   
but the emotional value of the event in 
the eyes of the painter4 ,thus1 for     
instance1 ,tintoret concentrated a beam 
of sunlight into the figure of ,christ  
before ,pilate1 not because he supposed 
,christ to have stood in that sunlight1 
but because the white figure1 shining   
yet ghost-like1 seemed to him1 perhaps  
unconsciously1 to indicate the position 
of the betrayed ,saviour among the      
indifference and wickedness of the      
world4 ,hence ,i would divide all       
imaginative art1 particularly that of   
the old ,italian masters1 into art which
 stirs our own associations1 and        
suggests to us trains of thought and    
feeling perhaps unknown to the artist1  
and art which exhibits a scene or event 
foreign to ourselves1 and placed before 

us with a deliberate intention4 ,both   
are categories of imaginative activity  
due to inborn peculiarities of          
character2 but one of them1 namely1 the 
suggestive1 is probably spontaneous1 and
 quite unintentional1 hence never asked 
for by the public1 nor sought after by  
the artist2 while the other1            
self-conscious and intentional1 is      
therefore constantly sought after by the
 artist1 and bargained for by the       
public4 ,i shall begin with the latter1 
because it is the recognised commodity3 
artistic imagination1 as bought and sold
 in the market1 whether of good quality 
or bad4   ,,ii  ,the painters of the    
late thirteenth and early fourteenth    
century1 developing the meagre          
suggestions of ,byzantine decoration1   
incorporating the richer inventions of  
the bas-reliefs of the ,pisan sculptors 
and of the medallions surrounding the   
earliest painted effigies of holy       
personages1 produced a complete set of  
pictorial themes illustrative of ,gospel

 history and of the lives of the        
principal saints4 ,these illustrative   
themes--definite conceptions of         
situations and definite arrangements of 
figures--became forthwith the whole     
art's stock1 universal and traditional2 
few variations were made from year to   
year and from master to master1 and     
those variations resolved themselves    
continually back into the original type4
 ,and thus on1 through the changes in   
artistic means and artistic ends1 until 
the ,italian schools disappeared finally
 before the schools of ,france and      
,flanders4 ,let us take a striking      
example4 ,the presentation of the       
,virgin remains unaltered in main       
sentiment and significance of           
composition1 despite the two centuries  
and more which separate the ,gaddi from 
,titian and ,tintoret1 despite the      
complete change in artistic aims and    
methods separating still more completely
 the men of the fourteenth century from 
the men of the sixteenth4 ,the long     

flight of steps stretching across the   
fresco in ,santa ,croce stretches also  
across the canvas of the great          
,venetians2 and the little girl climbs  
up them alike1 presenting her profile to
 the spectator2 although at the top of  
the steps there is in one case a ,gothic
 portal1 and in the other a ,palladian  
portico1 and at the bottom of the steps 
in the fresco stand ,florentines who    
might personally have known ,dante1 and 
at the bottom of the steps in the       
pictures the ,venetian patrons of       
,aretino4 ,yet the presentation of the  
little maiden to the ,high ,priest is   
quite equally conceivable in many other 
ways and from many other points of view4
 ,as regards both dramatic conception   
and pictorial composition1 the moment   
might have been differently chosen2 the 
child might still be with its parents or
 already with the priest2 and the flight
 of steps might have been replaced by   
the court of the temple4 ,any man might 
have invented his own representation of 

the occurrence4 ,but the men of the     
sixteenth century adhered scrupulously  
or indifferently to the inventions of   
the men of the fourteenth4  ,this is    
merely one instance in a hundred4 ,if we
 summon up in our mind as many as we can
 of the various frescoes and pictures   
representing the chief incidents of     
,scripture history1 we shall find that1 
while there are endless differences     
between them with respect to drawing1   
anatomy1 perspective1 light and shade1  
colour and handling1 there are but few  
and slight variations as regards the    
conception of the situation and the     
arrangement for the figures4 ,in the    
,marriage of the ,virgin the suitors are
 dressed1 sometimes in the loose robe   
and cap with lappets of the days of     
,giotto1 and sometimes in the tight hose
 and laced doublet of the days of       
,raphael and of ,luini2 but they break  
their wands across their knees with the 
same gesture and expression2 and        
although the temple is sometimes close  

at hand1 and sometimes a little way off1
 the wedding ceremony invariably takes  
place outside it1 and not inside4 ,the  
shepherds in the ,nativity are sometimes
 young and sometimes old1 but they      
always come in broad daylight1 and the  
manger by which the ,virgin is kneeling 
is always outside the stable1 and always
 in one corner of the picture4 ,again1  
whatever slight difference there may be 
in the expression and gesture of the    
apostles at the ,last ,supper1 they are 
always seated on one side only of a     
table facing the spectator1 with ,judas 
alone on a stool on the opposite side4  
,and although there are two themes of   
the ,entombment of ,christ1 one where   
the body is stretched on the ground1 the
 other where it is being carried to the 
sepulchre1 the action is always out of  
doors1 and never1 as might sometimes be 
expected1 gives us the actual burial in 
the vault4 ,these examples are more than
 sufficient4 ,yet ,i feel that any      
description in words is inadequate to   

convey the extreme monotony of all these
 representations1 because the monotony  
is not merely one of sentiment by       
selection of the dramatic moment1 but of
 the visible composition of the         
paintings1 of the outlines of the groups
 and the balancing of them4 ,a monotony 
so complete that any one of us almost   
knows what to expect1 in all save       
technical matters and the choice of     
models1 on being told that in such a    
place there is an old ,italian fresco1  
or panel1 or canvas1 representing some  
principal episode of ,gospel history4   
,the explanation of this fidelity to one
 theme of representation in an art which
 was the very furthest removed from any 
hieratic prescriptions1 in an art which 
was perpetually growing--and growing    
more human and secular--must be sought  
for1 ,i think1 in no peculiarities of   
spiritual condition or national         
imagination1 but in two facts concerning
 the merely technical development of    
painting1 and the results thereof4      

,these two facts are briefly3 that at a 
given moment--namely1 the end of the    
thirteenth century and the beginning of 
the fourteenth--there existed just      
enough power of imitating nature to     
admit of the simple indication of a     
dramatic situation1 without further     
realisation of detail2 and that at this 
moment1 consequently1 there originated  
such pictorial indications of the chief 
dramatic situations as concerned the    
,christian world4 ,and secondly1 that   
from then and until well into the       
sixteenth century1 the whole attention  
of artists was engrossed in changing the
 powers of indication into powers of    
absolute representation1 developing     
completely the drawing1 anatomy1        
perspective1 colour1 light and shade1   
and handling1 which ,giotto and his     
contemporaries had possessed only in a  
most rudimentary condition1 and which   
had sufficed for the creation of just   
such pictorial themes as they had       
invented1 and no more4  ,let me explain 

myself further4 ,the artists of the     
fourteenth century1 with the exception  
of ,giotto himself--to whose premature  
excellence none of his contemporaries   
and disciples ever attained--give us1 by
 means of pictorial representation1 just
 about the same as could be given to us 
by the conventional symbolism of        
writing4 ,in describing a ,giottesque   
fresco1 or panel1 we are not stopped by 
the difficulty of rendering visible     
effects in words1 because the visible   
effects that meet us are in reality so  
many words2 so that1 to describe the    
picture1 it almost suffices to narrate  
the story1 no arrangements of different 
planes and of light and shade1 no       
peculiarities of form1 foreshortening1  
colour1 or texture requiring to be seen 
in order to be fully understood4 ,the   
artists of the fifteenth century--for   
the ,giottesques do little more than    
carry1 without developing them1 the     
themes of ,giotto into various parts of 
,italy--work at adding to the art       

exactly those qualities which belong    
exclusively to it1 and which baffle the 
mere written word3 they acquire the     
means1 slowly and laboriously1 of       
showing these events no longer merely to
 the mind1 but also to the eye2 they    
place these people in real space1 in    
real relations of distance and light1   
they give them a real body which can    
stand and move1 made of real flesh and  
blood and bones1 and covered with real  
clothes2 they turn these abstractions   
once more into realities like the       
realities of nature whence they had been
 abstracted4 ,but the work of the       
fifteenth century does not go beyond    
filling up the programme indicated by   
the ,giottesques2 and it is only after  
the men of the sixteenth century have   
been enabled to completely realise all  
that the men of the fourteenth century  
had indicated1 that art1 with           
,michelangelo1 ,tintoret1 and still more
 with the great painters of ,spain and  
,flanders1 proceeds to encounter        

problems of foreshortening1 of light and
 shade1 of atmospheric effect1 that     
could never have been imagined by the   
contemporaries of ,giotto1 nor even by  
the contemporaries of ,ghirlandaio and  
the ,bellini4 ,hence1 throughout the    
fifteenth century1 while there is a     
steady development of the artistic means
 required to realise those narrative    
themes which the ,giottesques had       
invented1 there is no introduction of   
any new artistic means unnecessary for  
this result1 but which1 like the        
foreshortenings of ,michelangelo1 and   
the light and shade of ,tintoret1 like  
the still further additions to painting 
represented by men like ,velasquez and  
,rembrandt1 could suggest new treatment 
of the old histories and enable the     
well-known events to be shown from      
totally new intellectual standpoints1   
and in totally new artistic             
arrangements4 ,if we look into the      
matter1 we shall recognise that the     
monotony of representation throughout   

the ,renaissance can be amply accounted 
for without referring to the fact1      
which1 however1 doubtless went for      
something1 that the men of the fifteenth
 century were too much absorbed in the  
working out of details to feel any      
desire for new pictorial versions of the
 stories of the ,gospel1 and the lives  
of the ,saints4  ,moreover1 the         
,giottesques--among whom ,i include the 
immediate precursors1 sculptors as well 
as painters1 of ,giotto--put into their 
,scripture stories an amount of logic1  
of sentiment1 of dramatic and           
psychological observation and           
imagination more than sufficient to     
furnish out the works of three          
generations of later comers4 ,setting   
aside ,giotto himself1 who concentrates 
and diffuses the vast bulk of dramatic  
invention as well as of artistic        
observation and skill1 there is in even 
the small and smallest among his        
followers1 an extraordinary happiness of
 individual invention of detail4 ,i may 

quote a few instances at random4 ,it    
would be difficult to find a humbler    
piece of work than the so-called ,tree  
of the ,cross1 in the ,florentine       
,academy3 a thing like a huge fern1 with
 medallion histories in each frond1 it  
can scarcely be considered a work of    
art1 and stands halfway between a       
picture and a genealogical tree4 ,yet in
 some of its medallions there is a great
 vivacity of imaginative rendering2 for 
instance1 the ,massacre of the          
,innocents represented by a single      
soldier1 mailed and hooded1 standing    
before ,herod on a floor strewn with    
children's bodies1 and holding up an    
infant by the arm1 like a dead hare1    
preparing slowly to spit it on his      
sword2 and the kiss of ,judas1 the      
soldiers crowding behind1 while the     
traitor kisses ,christ1 seems to bind   
him hand and foot with his embraces1 to 
give him up1 with that stealthy look    
backwards to the impatient rabble--a    
representation of the scene1 infinitely 

superior in its miserable execution to  
,angelico's ,ave ,rabbi6 with its       
elaborate landscape of towers and fruit 
trees4 ,again1 in a series of predella  
histories of the ,virgin1 in the same   
place1 also a very mediocre and         
anonymous work1 there is extraordinary  
charm in the conception of the          
respective positions of ,mary and       
,joseph at their wedding3 he is quite   
old and grey2 she young1 unformed1      
almost a child1 and she has to stand on 
two steps to be on his level1 raising   
her head with a beautiful1 childlike    
earnestness1 quite unlike the           
conventional bridal timidity of other   
painters4 ,leaving these unknown        
mediocrities1 ,i would refer to the     
dramatic value 7besides the great       
pictorial beauty7 of an ,entombment by  
,giottino1 in the corridor of the       
,uffizi3 the ,virgin does not faint1 or 
has recovered 7thus no longer diverting 
the attention from the dead ,saviour to 
herself1 as elsewhere71 and surrounds   

the head of her son with her arms2 the  
rest of the figures restrain themselves 
before her1 and wink with strange       
blinking efforts to keep back their     
tears4 ,still more would ,i speak of two
 small frescoes in the ,baroncelli      
,chapel at ,santa ,croce1 which are as  
admirable in poetical conception as they
 are unfortunately poor in artistic     
execution4 ,one of them represents the  
,annunciation to the ,shepherds3 they   
are lying in a grey1 hilly country1     
wrapped in grey mists1 their flock below
 asleep1 but the dog vigilant1 sniffing 
the supernatural4 ,one is hard asleep2  
the other awakes suddenly1 and has      
turned over and looks up screwing his   
eyes at the angel1 who comes in a pale  
yellow winter sunrise cloud1 in the     
cold1 grey mist veined with yellow4 ,the
 chilliness of the mist at dawn1 the    
wonder of the vision1 are felt with     
infinite charm4 ,in the other fresco the
 three kings are in a rocky place1 and  
to them appears1 not the angel1 but the 

little child ,christ1 half-swaddled1    
swimming in orange clouds on a deep blue
 sky4 ,the eldest king is standing1 and 
points to the vision with surprise and  
awe2 the middle-aged one shields his    
eyes coolly to see2 while the youngest1 
a delicate lad1 has already fallen on   
his knees1 and is praying with both     
hands crossed on his breast4 ,for       
dramatic1 poetic invention1 these       
frescoes can be surpassed1 poor as is   
their execution1 only by ,giotto's ,st4 
,john ascending slowly from the open    
grave1 floating upwards1 with           
outstretched arms and illumined face1 to
 where a cloud of prophets1 with ,christ
 at their head1 enwraps him in the deep 
blue sky4  ,these pictorial themes      
elaborated by the painters of the school
 of ,giotto were not merely as good1 in 
a way1 as any pictorial themes could be3
 simple1 straightforward1 often very    
grand1 so that the immediately following
 generations could only spoil1 but not  
improve upon them2 they were also1 if we

 consider the matter1 the only pictorial
 representations of ,scripture histories
 possible until art had acquired those  
new powers of foreshortening1 and light 
and shade and perspective1 which were   
sought for only after the complete      
attainment of the more elementary powers
 which the ,giottesques never fully     
possessed4 ,let us ask ourselves how1 in
 the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries1 
any notable change in general           
arrangement of any well-known ,scripture
 subject could well have been           
introduced2 and1 in order to do so1 let 
us realise one or two cases where the   
same subjects have been treated by later
 masters4 ,tintoretto's ,last ,judgment1
 where the ,heavenly ,hosts brood1      
poised on their wings1 above the river  
of hell which hurries the damned down   
its cataracts1 is impossible so long as 
perspective and foreshortening will     
barely admit 7as is the case up to the  
end of the fifteenth century71 of       
figures standing firmly on the ground   

and being separated into groups at      
various distances4 ,in ,rembrandt's and 
,terburg's ,adoration of the ,shepherds1
 the light emanates from the infant     
,christ2 in ,ribera's magnificent       
,deposition from the ,cross1 the dead   
,saviour and ,his companions are        
represented1 not1 as in the ,entombments
 of ,perugino and ,raphael1 in the open 
air1 but in the ghastly light of the    
mouth of the sepulchre4 ,these are new  
variations upon the hackneyed themes1   
but how were they possible so long as   
the problems of light and shade were    
limited 7as was the case even with      
,leonardo71 to giving the modelling1    
rather in form than in colour1 of a face
 or a limb8 ,one of the earliest and    
greatest innovations is ,signorelli's   
treatment of the ,resurrection in the   
chapel of ,san ,brizio1 at ,orvieto2 he 
broke entirely with the tradition       
7exemplified particularly by ,angelico7 
of making the dead come fully fleshed   
and dressed as in their lifetime from   

under the slabs of a burial place1      
goaded by grotesque devils with the     
snouts and horns of weasels and rams1   
with the cardboard masks of those       
carnival mummers who gave the great     
pageant of ,hell mentioned by old       
chroniclers4 ,but ,signorelli's         
innovation1 his naked figures partially 
fleshed and struggling through the      
earth's crust1 his naked demons shooting
 through the air and tying up the       
damned1 could not possibly have been    
executed or even conceived until his    
marvellous mastery of the nude and of   
the anatomy of movement had been        
obtained4 ,indeed1 wherever1 in the art 
of the fifteenth century1 we find a     
beginning of innovation in the          
conception and arrangement of a         
,scripture history1 we shall find also  
the beginning of the new technical      
method which has suggested such a       
partial innovation4 ,thus1 in the case  
of one of the greatest1 but least       
appreciated1 masters of the early       

,renaissance1 ,paolo ,uccello4 ,his     
,deluge1 in the frescoes of the green   
cloister of ,s4 ,maria ,novella1 is     
wonderfully original as a whole         
conception2 and the figure clinging to  
the side of the ark1 with soaked and    
wind-blown drapery2 the man in a tub    
trying to sustain himself with his      
hands1 the effort and strain of the     
people in the water1 are admirable as   
absolute realisation of the scene4      
,again1 in the ,sacrifice of ,noah1     
there is in the foreshortened figure of 
,god1 floating1 brooding1 like a cloud1 
with face downward and outstretched     
hands over the altar1 something which is
 a prophecy1 and more than a prophecy1  
of what art will come to in the ,sixtine
 and the ,loggie4 ,but these inventions 
are due to ,uccello's special and       
extraordinary studies of the problems of
 modelling and foreshortening2 and when 
his contemporaries try to assimilate his
 achievements1 and unite them with the  
achievements of other men in other      

special technical directions1 there is  
an end of all individual poetical       
conception1 and a relapse into the      
traditional arrangements2 as may be seen
 by comparing the ,bible stories of     
,paolo ,uccello with those of ,benozzo  
,gozzoli at ,pisa4  ,it is not wonderful
 that the painters of the fifteenth     
century should have been satisfied with 
repeating the themes left by the        
,giottesques4 ,for the ,giottesques had 
left them1 besides this positive        
heritage1 a negative heritage1 a        
programme to fill up1 of which it is    
difficult to realise the magnitude4 ,the
 work of the ,giottesques is so merely  
poetic1 or at most so merely decorative 
in the sense of a mosaic or a tapestry1 
and it is in the case of ,giotto and one
 or two of his greatest contemporaries1 
particularly the ,sienese1 so           
well-balanced and satisfying as a result
 of its elementary nature that we are   
apt to overlook the fact that everything
 in the way of realisation as opposed to

 indication1 everything distinguishing  
the painting of a story from the mere   
telling thereof1 remained to be done4   
,and such realisation could be attained 
only through a series of laborious      
failures4 ,it is by comparing some of   
the later ,giottesques themselves1      
notably the ,gaddi with ,giotto1 that we
 bring home to ourselves1 for instance1 
that ,giotto did not1 at least in his   
finest work at ,florence1 attempt to    
model his frescoes in colour4 ,now the  
excessive ugliness of the ,gaddi        
frescoes at ,st4 ,croce is largely due  
to the effort to make form and boss     
depend1 as in nature1 upon colour4      
,giotto1 in the neighbouring ,peruzzi   
and ,bardi chapels1 is quite satisfied  
with outlining the face and draperies in
 dark paint1 and laying on the colour1  
in itself beautiful1 as a child will lay
 it on to a print or outline drawing1   
filling up the lines1 but not creating  
them4 ,i give this as a solitary        
instance of one of the first and most   

important steps towards pictorial       
realisation which the great imaginative 
theme-inventors left to their           
successors4 ,as a fact1 the items at    
which the fifteenth century had to work 
are too many to enumerate2 in many cases
 each man or group of men took up one   
particular item1 as perspective1        
modelling1 anatomy1 colour1 movement1   
and their several subdivisions1 usually 
with the result of painful and grotesque
 insistency and onesidedness1 from the  
dreadful bag of bones anatomies of      
,castagno and ,pollaiolo1 down to the   
humbler1 but equally necessary1         
architectural studies of ,francesco di  
,giorgio4 ,add to this the necessity of 
uniting the various attainments of such 
specialists1 of taming down these often 
grotesque monomaniacs1 of making all    
these studies of drawing1 anatomy1      
colour1 modelling1 perspective1 c41 into
 a picture4 ,if that picture was lacking
 in individual poetic conception2 if    
those studies were often intolerably    

silly and wrong-headed from the         
intellectual point of view2 if the old  
themes were not only worn threadbare1   
but actually maltreated1 what wonder8   
,the themes were there1 thank ,heaven6  
no one need bother about them2 and no   
one did4 ,moreover1 as ,i have already  
pointed out1 no one could have added    
anything1 save in the personal sentiment
 of the heads1 the hands1 the tilt of   
the figure1 or the quality of the form4 
,everything which depends upon dramatic 
conception1 which is not a question of  
form or sentiment1 tended merely to     
suffer a steady deterioration4 ,thus1   
nearly two hundred years after ,giotto1 
,ghirlandaio could find nothing better  
for his frescoes in ,st4 ,trinit than   
the arrangement of ,giotto's ,st4       
,francis1 with the difference that he   
omitted all the more delicate dramatic  
distinctions4 ,i have already alluded to
 the poetic conception of an early      
,marriage of the ,virgin in the         
,florence ,academy2 that essential point

 of the extreme youth of ,mary was never
 again attended to1 although the rest of
 the arrangement was repeated for two   
centuries4 ,similarly1 no one noticed or
 reproduced the delicate distinctions of
 action which ,gaddi had put into his   
two ,annunciations of the ,cappella     
,baroncelli2 the shepherds henceforth   
sprawled no matter how2 and the scale of
 expression in the vision of the ,three 
,kings was not transferred to the more  
popular theme of their visit to the     
stable at ,bethlehem4 ,in ,giotto's     
,presentation at the ,temple in the     
,arena chapel at ,padua1 the little     
,mary is pushed up the steps by her     
mother2 in the ,baroncelli frescoes the 
little girl1 ascending gravely1 turns   
round for a minute to bless the children
 at the foot of the steps4 ,here are two
 distinct dramatic conceptions1 the one 
more human1 the other more majestic2    
both admirable4 ,the fifteenth century1 
nay1 the fourteenth1 took no account of 
either2 the ,virgin merely went up the  

steps1 connected by no emotion with the 
other characters1 a mere little doll1 as
 she is still in the big pictures of    
,titian and ,tintoret1 and quite        
subordinate to any group of richly      
dressed men or barebacked women4 ,it is 
difficult to imagine any miracle quite  
so dull as the ,raising of the ,king's  
,son in the ,brancacci ,chapel2 its     
dramatic or undramatic foolishness is   
surpassed only by certain little panels 
of ,angelico1 with fiery rain and other 
plagues coming down upon the silly blue 
and pink world of dolls4  ,a            
satisfactory study of the lack of all   
dramatic invention of the painters of   
the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries  
is afforded by the various              
representations of the ,annunciation of 
the ,virgin1 one of the favourite themes
 of the early ,renaissance4 ,it never   
seems to have occurred to any one that  
the ,virgin and the ,archangel might be 
displayed otherwise than each in one    
corner of the picture4 ,such a          

composition as that of ,rossetti's      
,ancilla ,domini1 where the ,virgin     
cowers on her bed as the angel floats in
 with flames round his feet2 such a     
suggestion as that of the unfinished    
lily on the embroidery frame1 was       
reserved for our sceptical and          
irreverent1 but imaginative times4  ,the
 variety in these ,annunciations        
depends1 as ,i have remarked1 not upon a
 new dramatic conception1 producing1 as 
in the case of ,rossetti's1 a new       
visible arrangement2 but upon the       
particular kind of form preferred by the
 artist1 and the particular kind of     
expression common in his pictures2 the  
variety1 ,i may add1 is1 with one or two
 exceptions1 a variety in inertness4    
,let us look at a few1 taking merely    
those in one gallery1 the ,uffizi4 ,the 
,virgin1 in that superb piece of gilding
 by ,simone ,martini 7did those old     
painters ever think of the glorified    
evening sky when they devised such      
backgrounds871 is turning away from the 

angel in sheer loathing and anger1 a    
great lady feeling sick at the sudden   
intrusion of a cad4 ,in a picture by    
,angelo ,gaddi1 she is standing with her
 hand on her chest1 just risen from her 
chair1 like a prima donna going to      
answer an encore--a gracious1 but not   
too eager recognition of an expected    
ovation4 ,in one by ,cosimo ,rossetti   
she lifts both hands with shocked       
astonishment as the angel scuddles in2  
in the lovely one1 with blue ,alpine    
peaks and combed-out hair1 now given to 
,verocchio1 she raises one hand with a  
vacant smile1 as if she were exclaiming1
 ,dear me6 there's that angel again4    
,the one slight deviation from the fixed
 type of ,annunciation1 ,angelico's1 in 
a cell at ,st4 ,mark's1 where he has    
made the ,virgin kneel and the angel    
stand1 merely because he had painted    
another ,annunciation with a kneeling   
angel a few doors off1 is due to no     
dramatic inspiration4 ,the angel        
standing upright with folded arms 7how  

different from ,rossetti's standing     
angel67 while the ,virgin kneels1       
instead of kneeling to her as1 according
 to etiquette1 results merely in an     
impression that this silly1 stolid1     
timid little ,ancilla ,domini 7here     
again one thinks of ,rossetti's cowering
 and dazed ,virgin71 has been waiting   
for some time in that kneeling attitude1
 and that the ,archangel has come by    
appointment4  ,among this crowd of      
unimpressive1 nay brainless1            
representations of one of the grandest  
and sweetest of all stories1 there stand
 out two--an ,annunciation by           
,signorelli1 a small oil painting in the
 ,uffizi1 and one by ,botticelli1#f a   
large tempera picture in the same room4 
,but they stand out merely because the  
one is the work of the greatest early   
master of form and movement1 or rather  
the master whose form and movement had a
 peculiar quality of the colossal2 and  
the other is the work of the man1 of all
 ,renaissance painters1 whose soul seems

 to have known most of human1 or rather 
feminine wistfulness1 and sorrow1 and   
passion4    ,footnote #f3 ,probably     
executed from ,botticelli's design1 by  
,raffaellino   del ,garbo4  ,the little 
panel by ,signorelli 7the lowest        
compartment1 divided into three1 of an  
altar-piece7 is perhaps1 besides the    
,orvieto ,resurrection1 his most superb 
and poetical work4 ,the figures1 only   
three inches high1 have his highest     
quality of powerful grandeur1 solemnly  
rustic in the kneeling shepherds--solemn
 in the very swagger1 hand on hip1 of   
the parti-coloured bravoes of the ,magi2
 the landscape1 only a few centimetres  
across1 is one of the amplest and most  
austere that ever has been painted3 a   
valley1 bounded by blue hills and dark  
green ilex groves1 wide1 silent1        
inhabited by a race larger and stronger 
than the human1 with more than human    
passions1 but without human speech4 ,in 
it the ,virgin is seated beneath a      
portico1 breathing1 as such creatures   

must breathe1 the vast greenness1 the   
deep evening breeze4 ,and to her comes  
bounding1 with waving draperies and     
loosened hair1 the ,archangel1 like a   
rushing wind1 the wind which the strong 
woman is quietly inhaling4 ,there is no 
religious sentiment here1 still less any
 human3 the ,madonna bows gravely as one
 who is never astonished2 and1 indeed1  
this race of giants1 living in this     
green valley1 look as if nothing could  
ever astonish them--walking miracles    
themselves1 and in constant relation    
with the superhuman4  ,we must forget   
all such things in turning to that      
,annunciation of ,botticelli4 ,the angel
 has knelt down vehemently1 but drawn   
himself back1 frightened at his own     
message2 moved overmuch and awed by what
 he has to say1 and her to whom he must 
say it2 lifting a hand which seems to   
beg patience1 till the speech which is  
throbbing in his heart can pass his     
lips2 eagerness defeating itself1       
passionate excitement turned into awe in

 this young1 delicate1 passionate1 and  
imaginative creature4 ,he has not said  
the word2 but she has understood4 ,she  
has seen him before2 she knows what he  
means1 this vehement1 tongue-tied       
messenger2 and at his sight she reels1  
her two hands up1 the beating of her own
 blood too loud in her ears1 a sudden   
mist of tears clouding her eyes4 ,this  
is no simple damsel receiving the       
message1 like ,rossetti's terrified and 
awe-stricken girl1 that she is the      
handmaid of the ,lord4 ,this is the nun 
who has been waiting for years to become
 ,christ's own bride1 and receives at   
length the summons to him1 in a tragic  
overpowering ecstasy1 like ,catherine in
 ,sodoma's fresco1 sinking down at the  
touch of the rays from ,christ's wounds4
 ,nay1 this is1 in fact1 the mere       
long-loving woman1 suddenly overcome by 
the approach of bliss ever hungered for1
 but never expected1 hearing that it is 
she who is the beloved2 and the angel is
 the knight's squire1 excited at the    

message he has to carry1 but terrified  
at the sight of the woman to whom he    
must carry it1 panting with the weight  
of another man's love1 and learning1 as 
he draws his breath to say those words1 
what love is himself4  ,the absence of  
individual invention1 implying the      
absence of individual dramatic          
realisation1 strikes one more than      
anywhere in the works of ,angelico2 and 
most of all in his frescoes of the cells
 of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,for1 while these are 
evidently less cared for as art1 indeed 
scarcely intended1 in their hasty       
execution1 to be considered as paintings
 at all1 they are more strictly         
religious in intention than any other of
 ,angelico's works2 indeed1 perhaps1 of 
all paintings in the world1 the most    
exclusively devoted to a religious      
object4 ,they are1 in fact1 so many     
pages of ,scripture stuck up1 like texts
 in a waiting-room1 in the cells of the 
convent3 an adjunct to the actual       
written or printed ,bible of each monk4 

,for this reason we expect them to      
possess what belongs so completely to   
the ,german engravers of ,drer's school1
 the very essential of illustrative     
art--imaginative realisation of the     
scenes1 an attempt to seize the         
attention and fill it with the subject4 
,this is by no means the case3 for      
,angelico1 although a saint1 was a man  
of the fifteenth century1 and1 despite  
all his obvious efforts1 he was not a   
real follower of ,giotto4 ,what         
impressiveness of actual artistic       
arrangement these frescoes really       
possess1 is due1 ,i think1 to no        
imaginative effort of the artist1 but to
 the exigencies of the place2 as any    
similar impressiveness is due in        
,signorelli's ,annunciation to the      
quality of his form1 and in             
,botticelli's ,annunciation to the      
pervading character of his heads and    
gestures4 ,these pale angels and ,st4   
,dominicks and ,magdalens1 these        
diaphanous1 dazzling ,christs and       

,virgins of ,angelico's1 shining out of 
the dark corner of the cell made darker1
 deeper1 by the dark green or inky      
purple ground on which they are painted1
 are less the spiritual conception of   
the painter than the accidental result  
of the darkness of the place1 where     
lines must be simple and colours light1 
if anything is to be visible4 ,for in   
the more important frescoes in the      
corridors and chapter-room1 where the   
light is better1 there is a return to   
,angelico's hackneyed vapid pinks and   
blues and lilacs1 and a return also to  
his niminy-piminy lines1 to all the     
wax-doll world of the missal painter4   
,the fine fresco of ,st4 ,dominick at   
the foot of the cross1 which seems to   
constitute an exception to this rule1   
really goes to prove it1 since it is    
intended to be seen very much like the  
cell frescoes3 white and black on a blue
 ground at the end of the first         
corridor1 a thing to be looked at from a
 great distance1 to impress the lay     

world that sees it at the cloister and  
from outside the convent railing4 ,the  
cell frescoes are1 ,i have said1 the    
most exclusively religious paintings in 
the world1 since they are to the highest
 degree1 what all absolutely pious art  
must be1 aids to devotion4 ,their use is
 to assist the monk in that conjuring up
 of the actual momentary feelings1 nay1 
sensations1 of the life of ,christ which
 is part of his daily duty4 ,they are   
such stimuli as the ,church has given   
sometimes in an artistic1 sometimes in a
 literary form1 to an imagination jaded 
by the monotonous contemplation of one  
subject1 or overexcited to the extent of
 rambling easily to another3 they are   
what we fondly imagine will be the      
portraits of the dear dead which we     
place before us1 forgetting that after a
 while we look without seeing1 or see   
without feeling4 ,that this is so1 that 
these painted ,gospel leaves stuck on   
the cell walls are merely such          
mechanical aids to devotion1 explains   

the curious and startling treatment of  
some of the subjects1 which are yet1    
despite the seeming novelty and         
impressiveness1 very cold1 undramatic1  
and unimaginative4 ,thus1 there is the  
fresco of ,christ enthroned1 blindfold1 
with alongside of ,him a bodiless       
scoffing head1 with hat raised1 and in  
the act of spitting2 buffeting hands1   
equally detached from any body1 floating
 also on the blue background4 ,there is 
a ,christ standing at the foot of the   
cross1 but with his feet in a           
sarcophagus1 the column of the          
flagellation monumentally or            
heraldically on one side1 the lance of  
,longinus on the other2 and above1 to   
the right1 the floating face of ,christ 
being kissed by that of ,judas2 to the  
left the blindfold floating head of     
,christ again1 with the floating head of
 a soldier spitting at ,him2 and all    
round buffeting and jibing hands1 hands 
holding the sceptre of reed1 and hands  
counting out money2 all arranged very   

much like the nails1 hammer1 tweezers   
and cock on roadside crosses2 each a    
thing whereon to fix the mind1 so as to 
realise that kiss of ,judas1 that       
spitting of the soldiers1 those slaps2  
and to hear1 if possible1 the chink of  
the pieces of silver that sold our      
,lord4 ,how different1 these two        
pictorial dodges of the purely          
mechanical ,catholicism of the fifteenth
 century from the tender or harrowing   
gospel illustrations1 where every detail
 is conceived as happening in the       
artist's own town and to his own        
kinsfolk1 of the ,lutheran engravers of 
the school of ,drer6  ,thus things go on
 throughout the fifteenth century1 and1 
indeed1 deep into the sixteenth1 where  
traditional arrangement and individual  
conception overlap1 according as a new  
artistic power does or does not call    
forth a new dramatic idea4 ,i have      
already alluded to the fact that the    
,presentation of the ,virgin remains the
 same1 so far as arrangement is         

concerned1 in the pictures of ,titian   
and ,tintoret as in the frescoes of     
,giotto and ,gaddi4 ,michelangelo's     
,creation of ,adam seems still inherited
 from an obscure painter in the ,green  
,cloister1 who inherited it from the    
,pisan sculptors4 ,on the other hand1   
the ,resurrection and ,last ,judgment of
 ,signorelli at ,orvieto1 painted some  
years earlier1 constitutes in many of   
its dramatic details a perfectly        
original work4 ,be this as it may1 and  
however frequent the recurrence of old  
themes1 with the sixteenth century      
commences the era of new individual     
dramatic invention4 ,michelangelo's     
,dividing of the ,light from the        
,darkness1 where the ,creator broods    
still in chaos1 and commands the world  
to exist2 and ,raphael's ,liberation of 
,st4 ,peter1 with its triple            
illumination from the moon1 the         
soldier's torches and the glory of the  
liberating angel1 are witnesses that    
henceforward each man may invent for    

himself1 because each man is in         
possession of those artistic means which
 the ,giottesques had indicated and the 
artists of the fifteenth century had    
laboriously acquired4 ,and now1 the     
,giottesque programme being fulfilled1  
art may go abroad and seek for new      
methods and effects1 for new dramatic   
conceptions4   ,,iii  ,the other day1   
walking along the river near ,careggi   
7with its memories of ,lorenzo dei      
,medici and his ,platonists71 close to  
the little cupola and loggia built by   
,ghirlandaio1 ,i came upon a strip of   
new grass1 thickly whitened with        
daisies1 beneath the poplars beginning  
to yellow with pale sprouting leaves4   
,and immediately there arose in my mind1
 by the side of this real grass and real
 budding of trees1 the remembrance of   
certain early ,renaissance pictures3 the
 rusty1 green1 stencilled grass and     
flowers of ,botticelli1 the faded       
tapestry work of ,angelico2 making1 as  
it were1 the greenness greener1 the     

freshness fresher1 of that real grass   
and those real trees4 ,and not by the   
force of contrast1 but rather by the    
sense that as all this appears to me    
green and fresh in the present1 so      
likewise did it appear to those men of  
four centuries ago3 the fact of their   
having seen and felt1 making me1 all the
 more1 see and feel4  ,this is one of   
the peculiarities of rudimentary art--of
 the art of the early ,renaissance as   
well as of that of ,persia and ,india1  
of ,constantinople1 of every peasant    
potter all through the world3 that1 not 
knowing very well its own aims1 it fills
 its imperfect work with suggestion of  
all manner of things which it loves1 and
 tries to gain in general               
pleasurableness what it loses in actual 
achievement2 and lays hold of us1 like  
fragments of verse1 by suggestiveness1  
quite as much as by pictorial           
realisation4 ,and upon this depends the 
other half of the imaginative art of the
 ,renaissance1 the school of            

intellectual decoration1 of arabesques  
formed1 not of lines and of colours1 but
 of associations and suggestions4  ,the 
desire which lies at the bottom of it--a
 desire masked as religious symbolism in
 the old mosaicists and carvers and     
embroiderers--is the desire to paint    
nice things1 in default of painting a   
fine picture4 ,the beginning of such    
attempts is naturally connected with the
 use of gilding2 whether those gold     
grounds of the panel pictures of the    
fourteenth century represented to the   
painters only a certain expenditure of  
gold foil1 or whether 7as ,i have       
suggested1 but ,i fear fantastically7   
their streakings and veinings of coppery
 or silvery splendour1 their            
stencillings of rays and dots and       
fretwork1 their magnificent inequality  
and variety of brown or yellow or       
greenish effulgence1 were vaguely       
connected in the minds of those men with
 the splendour of the heaven in which   
the ,virgin and the ,saints really      

dwell4 ,it is the cunning use of this   
gilding1 of tools for ribbing and       
stencilling and damascening1 which give 
half of their marvellous exotic         
loveliness to ,simone ,martini's        
frescoes at ,assisi and his             
,annunciation of the ,florentine        
,gallery2 this1 and the feeling for     
wonderful gold woven and embroidered    
stuffs1 like that white cloth of gold of
 the kneeling angel1 fit1 in its purity 
and splendour1 for the robe of ,grail   
king4 ,the want of mechanical dexterity1
 however1 prevented the ,giottesques    
from doing very much in the decorative  
line except in conjunction with the     
art--perhaps quite separate from that of
 the painter1 and exercised by a        
different individual--of the embosser   
and gilder4  ,it is with the fifteenth  
century that begins1 in ,italy as in    
,flanders 7we must think of the carved  
stonework1 the ,persian carpets1 the    
damascened armour1 the brocade dresses  
of ,van ,eyck's and ,memling's ,holy    

,families71 the deliberate habit of     
putting into pictures as much as        
possible of the beautiful and luxurious 
things of this world4 ,the house of the 
,virgin1 originally a very humble       
affair1 or rather1 in the authority of  
the early ,giottesques1 a no place1     
nowhere1 develops gradually into a very 
delightful residence in the choicest    
part of the town1 or into a pleasantly  
situated villa1 like the one described  
in the ,decameron1 commanding a fine    
view4 ,the ,virgin's bedchamber1 where  
we are shown it1 as1 for instance1 in   
,crivelli's picture in the ,national    
,gallery1 is quite as well appointed in 
the way of beautiful bedding1 carving1  
and so forth1 as the chamber of the lady
 of ,john ,arnolfini of ,lucca in ,van  
,eyck's portrait4 ,outside it1 as we    
learn from ,angelico1 ,cosimo ,rosselli1
 ,lippi1 ,ghirlandaio1 indeed1 from     
almost every ,florentine painter1       
stretches a pleasant portico1 decorated 
in the ,ionic or ,corinthian style1 as  

if by ,brunellesco or ,sangallo1 with   
tesselated floor1 or oriental carpet1   
and usually a carved or gilded desk and 
praying stool2 while the privacy of the 
whole place is guarded by a high wall1  
surmounted by vases1 overtopped by      
cypresses1 and in whose shelter grows a 
row of well-kept roses and lilies4      
,sometimes this house1 as ,i have said1 
becomes a villa1 as is the case1 not    
unfrequently1 with the ,lombards1 who   
love to make the angel appear on the    
flowery grass against a background of   
,alpine peaks1 such as you see them1    
rising blue and fairylike from the green
 ricefields about ,pavia4 ,crivelli1    
however1 though a ,lombard1 prefers a   
genteel residence in town1 the          
magnificent ,milan of ,galeazzo and     
,filippo ,visconti4 ,he gives us a whole
 street1 where richly dressed and well  
peruked gentlemen look down from the    
terraces1 duly set with flower-pots1 of 
houses ornamented with terra-cotta      
figures and medallions like those of the

 hospital at ,milan4 ,in this street the
 angel of the ,annunciation is kneeling1
 gorgeously got up in silks and         
brocades1 and accompanied by a nice     
little bishop carrying a miniature town 
on a tray4 ,the ,virgin seems to be     
receiving the message through the window
 or the open door4 ,she has a beautiful 
bed with a red silk coverlet1 some      
books1 and a shelf covered with plates  
and preserve jars4 ,this evident        
appreciation of jam1 as one of the      
pleasant things of this world1          
corresponds with the pot of flowers on  
the window1 the bird-cage hanging up3   
the mother of ,christ must have the     
little tastes and luxuries of a         
well-to-do burgess's daughter4 ,again1  
the cell of ,st4 ,jerome1 painted some  
thirty years later by ,carpaccio1 in the
 ,church of the ,slavonians1 contains   
not only various convenient and         
ornamental articles of furniture1 but a 
collection of nick-nacks1 among which   
some antique bronzes are conspicuous4   

,the charm in all this is not so much   
that of the actual objects themselves2  
it is that of their having delighted    
those people's minds4 ,we are pleased by
 their pleasure1 and our imagination is 
touched by their fancy4 ,the effect is  
akin to that of certain kinds of poetry1
 not the dramatic certainly1 where we   
are pleased by the mere suggestion of   
beautiful things1 and quite as much by  
finding in the poet a mind appreciative 
and desirous of them1 constantly        
collecting them and enhancing them by   
subtle arrangements2 it is the case with
 much lyric verse1 with the ,italian    
folk-rhymes1 woven out of names of      
flowers and herbs1 with some of         
,shakespeare's and ,fletcher's songs1   
with the ,allegro and ,penseroso1       
,keats1 some of ,heine1 and1 despite a  
mixture of unholy intention1            
,baudelaire4 ,the great master thereof  
in the early ,renaissance1 the lyrist1  
if ,i may use the word1 of the fifteenth
 century1 is of course ,botticelli4 ,he 

is one of those who most persistently   
introduce delightful items into their   
works3 elaborately embroidered veils1   
scarves1 and gold fringes4 ,but being a 
man of fine imagination and most        
delicate sense of form1 he does not1    
like ,angelico or ,benozzo or           
,carpaccio1 merely stick pretty things  
about2 he works them all into his       
strange arabesque1 half intellectual1   
half physical4 ,thus the screen of      
roses#g behind certain of his ,madonnas1
 forming an exquisite ,morris pattern   
with the greenish-blue sky interlaced2  
and those beautiful1 carefully-drawn    
branches of spruce-fir and cypress1     
lace-like in his ,primavera2 above all1 
that fan-like growth of myrtles1        
delicately cut out against the evening  
sky1 which not merely print themselves  
as shapes upon the mind1 but seem to    
fill it with a scent of poetry4         
,footnote #g3 ,i learn from the learned 
that the ,florence and ,louvre          
,madonnas1 with the roses1 are not      

,botticelli's2 but ,botticelli1 ,i   am 
sure1 would not have been offended by   
those lovely bushes being   attributed  
to him4  ,this pleasure in the painter's
 pleasure in beautiful things is        
connected with another quality1 higher  
and rarer1 in this sort of imaginative  
art4 ,it is our appreciation of the     
artist's desire for beauty and          
refinement1 of his search for the       
exquisite4 ,herein1 to my mind1 lies    
some of the secret of ,botticelli's     
fantastic grace2 the explanation of that
 alternate or rather interdependent     
ugliness and beauty4 ,botticelli1 as ,i 
have said elsewhere1 must have been an  
admirer of the grace and sentiment of   
,perugino1 of the delicacy of form of   
certain ,florentine                     
sculptors--,ghiberti1 and those who     
proceed from him1 ,desiderio1 ,mino1 and
 particularly the mysterious ,florentine
 sculptor of ,rimini2 and what these men
 have done or do1 ,botticelli attempts1 
despite or 7what is worse7 by means of  

the realistic drawing and ugly models of
 ,florence1 the mechanism and           
arrangement of coarse men like the      
,pollaiolos4 ,the difficulty of         
attaining delicate form and sentiment   
with such materials--it cannot be said  
to have been attained in that sense by  
any other early ,tuscan painter1 not    
even ,angelico or ,filippo ,lippi--makes
 the desire but the keener1 and turns it
 into a most persevering and almost     
morbid research4 ,thence the            
extraordinary ingenuity displayed1      
frequently to the detriment of the work1
 in the arrangement of hands 7witness   
the tying1 clutching hands1 with fingers
 bent curiously in intricate knots1 of  
the ,calumny of ,apelles71 and of       
drapery2 in the poising of bodies and   
selection of general outline4 ,this     
search for elegance and grace1 for the  
refined and unhackneyed1 is frequently  
baffled by the ugliness of ,botticelli's
 models1 and still more by ,botticelli's
 deficient knowledge of anatomy and     

habit of good form4 ,but1 when not      
baffled1 this desire is extraordinarily 
assisted by those very defects4 ,this   
great decorator1 who uses the human form
 as so much pattern element1 mere lines 
and curves like those of a ,raffaelesque
 arabesque1 obtains with his imperfect1 
anatomically defective1 and at all      
events ill-fashioned figures1 a         
far-fetched and poignant grace          
impossible to a man dealing with more   
perfect elements4 ,for grace and        
distinction1 which are qualities of     
movement rather than of form1 do not    
strike us very much in a figure which is
 originally well made4 ,the momentary   
charm of movement is lost in the        
permanent charm of form2 the creature   
could not be otherwise than delightful1 
made as it is2 and we thus miss the     
sense of selection and deliberate       
arrangement1 the sense of beauty as     
movement1 that is1 as grace4 ,whereas1  
in the case of defective form1 any grace
 that may be obtained affects us per se4

 ,it need not have been there2 indeed1  
it was unlikely to be there2 and hence  
it obtains the value and charm of the   
unexpected1 the rare1 the far-fetched4  
,this1 ,i think1 is the explanation of  
the something of exotic beauty that     
attaches to ,botticelli3 we perceive the
 structural form only negatively1       
sufficiently to value all the more the  
ingenuity of arrangement by which it is 
made to furnish a beautiful outline and 
beautiful movement2 and we perceive the 
great desire thereof4 ,if we allow our  
eye to follow the actual structure of   
the bodies1 even in the ,primavera1 we  
shall recognise that not one of these   
figures but is downright deformed and   
out of drawing4 ,even the ,graces have  
arms and shoulders and calves and       
stomachs all at random2 and the most    
beautiful of them has a slice missing   
out of her head4 ,but if1 instead of    
looking at heads1 arms1 legs1 bodies1   
separately1 and separate from the       
drapery1 we follow the outline of the   

groups against the background1 drapery  
clinging or wreathing1 arms             
intertwining1 hands combed out into     
wonderful fingers2 if we regard these   
groups of figures as a pattern          
stencilled on the background1 we        
recognise that no pattern could be more 
exquisite in its variety of broken up   
and harmonised lines4 ,the exquisite    
qualities of all graceful things1       
flowers1 branches1 swaying reeds1 and   
certain animals like the stag and       
peacock1 seem to have been abstracted   
and given to these half-human and wholly
 wonderful creatures--these thin1 ill   
put together1 unsteady youths and       
ladies4 ,the ingenious grace of         
,botticelli passes sometimes from the   
realm of art to that of poetry1 as in   
the case of those flowers1 with stiff1  
tall stems1 which he places by the      
uplifted foot of the middle ,grace1 thus
 showing that she has trodden over it1  
like ,virgil's ,camilla1 without        
crushing it4 ,but the element of        

sentiment and poetry depends in reality 
upon the fascination of movement and    
arrangement2 fascination seemingly from 
within1 a result of exquisite breeding  
in those imperfectly made creatures4 ,it
 is the grace of a woman not beautiful1 
but well dressed and moving well2 the   
exquisiteness of a song sung delicately 
by an insufficient or defective voice3 a
 fascination almost spiritual1 since it 
seems to promise a sensitiveness to     
beauty1 a careful avoidance of ugliness1
 a desire for something more delicate1 a
 reverse of all things gross and        
accidental1 a possibility of perfection4
  ,this imagination of pleasant detail  
and accessory1 which delights us by the 
intimacy into which we are brought with 
the artist's innermost conception1      
develops into what1 among the masters of
 the fifteenth century1 ,i should call  
the imagination of the fairy tale4 ,a   
small number of scriptural and legendary
 stories lend themselves quite          
particularly to the development of such 

beautiful accessory1 which soon becomes 
the paramount interest1 and vests the   
whole with a totally new character3 a   
romantic1 childish charm1 the charm of  
the improbable taken for granted1 of the
 freedom to invent whatever one would   
like to see but cannot1 the charm of the
 fairy story4 ,from this unconscious    
altering of the value of certain        
,scripture tales1 arises a romantic     
treatment which is naturally applied to 
all other stories1 legends of saints1   
biographical accounts1 ,decameronian    
tales 7,mr4 ,leyland once possessed some
 ,botticellian illustrations of the tale
 of ,nastagio degli ,onesti1 the hero of
 ,dryden's ,theodore and ,honoria1 a    
sort of pendant to the ,griseldis       
attributed to ,pinturicchio71 and       
mythological episodes3 a new kind of    
invention1 based upon a desire to       
please1 and as different from the       
invention of the ,giottesques as the    
,arabian ,nights are different from     
,homer4  ,i have said that it begins    

with the unconscious altering of the    
values of certain scriptural stories1   
owing to the preponderance of detail    
over accessory4 ,the chief example of   
this is the ,adoration of the ,magi4 ,in
 the paintings of the ,giottesques1 and 
in the paintings of the serious1 or     
duller1 masters of the fifteenth        
century--,ghirlandaio1 ,rosselli1       
,filippino1 those for whom the fairy    
tale could exist no more than for       
,michelangelo or ,andrea del ,sarto--the
 chief interest in this episode is the  
,holy ,family1 the miraculous ,babe whom
 these great folk came so far to see4   
,the fourteenth century made very short 
work of the kings1 allowing them a      
minimum of splendour2 and those of the  
fifteenth century1 who cared only for   
artistic improvement1 copied slavishly1 
giving the kings their retinue only as  
they might have introduced any number of
 studio models or burgesses aspiring at 
portraits1 after the fashion of the     
,brancacci and ,s4 ,maria ,novella      

frescoes1 where spectators of miracles  
make a point never to look at the       
miraculous proceedings4 ,but there were 
men who felt differently3 the men who   
loved splendour and detail4 ,to ,gentile
 da ,fabriano1 that wonderful man in    
whom begins the colour and romance of   
,venetian painting1#h the adoration of  
the kings could not possibly be what it 
had been for the ,giottesques1 or what  
it still was for ,angelico4 ,the        
,madonna1 ,st4 ,joseph1 the child       
,christ did not cease to be interesting3
 he painted them with evident regard1   
gave the ,madonna a beautiful gold hem  
to her dress1 made ,st4 ,joseph quite   
unusually amiable1 and shed a splendid  
gilt glory about the child ,christ4 ,but
 to him the wonderful part of the       
business was not the family in the shed 
at ,bethlehem which the kings came to   
see2 but those kings themselves1 who    
came from such a long way off4 ,he put  
himself at the point of view of a holy  
family less persuaded of its holiness1  

who should suddenly see a bevy of grand 
folks come up to their door3 the        
miraculous was here4 ,the spiritual     
glory was of course on the side of the  
family of ,joseph2 but the temporal     
glory1 the glory that delighted         
,gentile1 that went to his brain and    
made him childishly happy1 was with the 
kings and their retinue4 ,that          
retinue--the trumpeters prancing on     
white horses1 with gold lace covers1 the
 pages1 the armour-bearers1 the         
treasurers1 the huntsmen with the       
hounds1 the falconers with the hawks1   
winding for miles down the hills1 and   
expanding into the circle of strange and
 delightful creatures that kings must   
have about their persons3 jesters with  
heads thrown back and eyes squeezed     
close1 while thinking of some funny     
jest2 dwarfs and negroes1 almost as     
amusing as their camels and giraffes2   
tame lynxes chained behind the saddle1  
monkeys perched1 jabbering1 on the      
horses' manes--all this was much more   

wonderful in ,gentile da ,fabriano's    
opinion than all the wonders of the     
,church1 which grew somehow less        
wonderful the more implicitly you       
believed in them4 ,then1 in the midst of
 all these delightful splendours1 the   
kings themselves6 ,the old grey-beard in
 the brown pomegranate embossed brocade 
going on all fours1 and kissing the     
little child's feet2 the dark young man1
 with peaked beard and wistful face1    
removing his coroneted turban2 and last1
 but far from least1 the youngest king1 
the beardless boy1 with the complexion  
of a well-bred young lady1 the almond   
eyes and golden hair1 standing up in his
 tunic of white cloth of silver1 while  
one squire unbuckled his spurs and      
another removed his cloak4 ,the darling 
little ,prince ,charming1 between whom  
and the romantic bearded young king     
there must for some time have been      
considerable rivalry1 and alternating   
views in the minds of men and the hearts
 of women 7particularly when the second 

king1 the bearded one1 became the ,john 
,palologus of ,benozzo71 until it was   
victoriously borne in upon the public   
that this delicate1 beardless creature1 
so much younger and always the last1    
must evidently be the prince1 the       
youngest of the king's sons in the fairy
 tales1 the one who always succeeds     
where the two elder have failed1 who    
gets the ,water that ,dances and the    
,apple ,branch that ,sings1 who carries 
off the enchanted oranges1 slays the    
ogre1 releases the princess1 flies      
through the air1 the hero1 the prince of
 ,fairyland4444    ,footnote #h3 ,this  
quality1 particularly in the ,adoration 
of the ,magi1   is already very marked  
in the very charming and little known   
frescoes   of ,ottaviano ,nelli1 in the 
former ,trinci ,palace at ,foligno4     
,nelli was   the master of ,gentile1 and
 through him greatly influenced ,venice4
  ,the fairy business of the story of   
the ,three ,kings takes even greater    
proportions in the delightful frescoes  

of ,benozzo ,gozzoli in the ,riccardi   
,chapel4 ,here the ,holy ,family are    
suppressed1 so to speak1 altogether1    
tucked into the altar in a picture1 and 
the act of adoration at ,bethlehem      
becomes the mere excuse for the romantic
 adventures of three people of the      
highest quality4 ,the journey itself1   
where ,gentile da ,fabriano sums up in  
that procession twisting about the      
background of his picture1 here occupies
 a whole series of frescoes4 ,and on    
this journey is concentrated all that   
the ,renaissance knew of splendour1     
delightfulness1 and romance4 ,the green 
valleys1 watered by twisting streams1   
with matted grasses1 which ,botticelli  
puts behind his enthroned ,madonna and  
victorious ,judith2 ,angelico's         
favourite hillsides with blossoming     
fruit trees and pointing cypresses2 the 
mysterious firwoods--more mysterious for
 their remoteness on the high           
,apennines--which fascinate the fancy of
 ,filippo ,lippi2 all this is here1 and 

through it all winds the procession of  
the ,three ,kings4 ,there are the       
splendid stuffs and ,oriental jewels and
 trappings1 the hounds and monkeys1 and 
jesters and negroes1 the falcon on the  
wrist1 the lynxes chained to the saddle1
 all the magnificence dreamed by        
,gentile da ,fabriano2 and among it all 
ride1 met by bevies of peacock-winged   
angels1 kneeling and singing before the 
flowering rose-hedges1 the ,three       
,kings4 ,the old man1 who looks like    
some ,platonist philosopher1 the        
beardless prince1 surrounded by his     
noisy huntsmen and pages2 and that      
dark-bearded youth in the ,byzantine    
dress and shovel hat1 the genuine king  
from the ,east1 riding with ardent1     
wistful eyes1 a beautiful kingly young  
,quixote3 ,sir ,percival seeking the    
,holy ,grail1 or ,king ,cophetua seeking
 for his beggar girl4 ,it is a page of  
fairy tale1 retold by ,boiardo or       
,spenser4  ,after such things as these  
it is difficult to speak of those more  

prosaic tales1 really intended as such1 
on which the painters of the            
,renaissance spent their fancy4 ,still  
they have all their charm1 these fairy  
tales1 not of the great poets indeed1   
but of the nursery4  ,there is1 for     
instance1 the story of a good young man 
7with a name for a fairy tale too1 neas 
,sylvius ,piccolomini67 showing his     
adventures by land and sea and at many  
courts1 the honours conferred on him by 
kings and emperors1 and how at last he  
was made ,pope1 having begun as a mere  
poor scholar on a grey nag2 all painted 
by ,pinturicchio in the ,cathedral      
library of ,siena4 ,there is the        
lamentable story of a bride and         
bridegroom1 by ,vittore ,carpaccio3 the 
stately1 tall bride1 ,st4 ,ursula1 and  
the dear little foolish bridegroom1     
looking like her little brother2 a story
 containing a great many incidents3 the 
sending of an embassy to the ,king2 the 
,king being sorely puzzled in his mind1 
leaning his arm upon his bed and asking 

the ,queen's advice2 the presence upon  
the palace steps of an ill-favoured old 
lady1 with a crutch and basket1         
suspiciously like the bad fairy who had 
been forgotten at the christening2 the  
apparition of an angel to the ,princess1
 sleeping1 with her crown neatly put    
away at the foot of the bed2 the arrival
 of the big ship in foreign parts1 with 
the ,bishop and ,clergy putting their   
heads out of the port-holes and asking  
very earnestly1 ,where are we8 and      
finally1 a most fearful slaughter of the
 ,princess and her eleven thousand      
ladies-in-waiting4 ,the same            
,carpaccio--a regular old gossip from   
whom one would expect all the formulas1 
and then he says to the king1 ,sacred   
,crown1 and then the ,prince walks1     
walks1 walks1 walks4 ,a company of      
knights in armour nice and shining1     
three comely ladies in a green meadow1  
and so forth of the professional        
,italian story-teller--the same         
,carpaccio1 who was also1 and much more 

than the more solemn ,giovanni ,bellini1
 the first ,venetian to handle oil      
paints like ,titian and ,giorgione1     
painted the fairy tale of ,st4 ,george1 
with quite the most dreadful dragon's   
walk1 a piece of sea sand embedded with 
bones and half-gnawed limbs1 and crawled
 over by horrid insects1 that any one   
could wish to see2 and quite the most   
comical dragon1 particularly when led   
out for execution among the minarets and
 cupolas and camels and turbans and     
symbols of a kind of small              
,constantinople4  ,one of the funniest  
of all such series of stories1 and which
 shows that when the ,renaissance men   
were driven to it they could still      
invent1 though 7apparently7 when they   
had to invent in this fashion1 they     
ceased to be able to paint1 is the tale 
of ,griseldis1 attributed in our        
,national ,gallery to ,pinturicchio1 but
 certainly by a very inferior painter of
 his school4 ,the ,marquis1 after       
hunting deer on a steep little hill1    

shaded by elm trees1 sees ,griseldis    
going to a well1 a pitcher on her head4 
,he reins in his white horse1 and cranes
 over in his red cloak1 the young       
parti-coloured lords-in-waiting pressing
 forwards to see her1 but only as much  
as politeness warrants4 ,scene ,,ii4--,a
 stubbly landscape4 ,the ,marquis1 in   
red and gold cloak and well-combed      
yellow head of hair1 approaches on foot 
to the little pink farm-house4 ,surprise
 of old ,giannucole1 who is coming down 
the exterior steps4 ,bless my soul6 the 
,lord ,marquis6 ,where is your daughter8
 asks the ,marquis1 with pointing       
finger4 ,but the daughter1 hearing      
voices1 has come on to the balcony and  
throws up her arms astonished4 ,dear me6
 the cavalier who accosted me in the    
wood6 ,the ,marquis and ,grizel walk    
off1 he deferentially dapper1 she       
hanging back a little in her black      
smock4 ,scene ,,iii4--,the ,marquis1    
still in purple and gold1 and red       
stockings and ,hessian boots1 says with 

some timidity and much grace1 pointing  
to the magnificent clothes brought by   
his courtiers1 ,would you mind1 dear    
,grizel1 putting on these clothes to    
please me8 ,but ,griseldis is extremely 
modest4 ,she tightens her white shift   
about her1 and doesn't dare look at the 
cloth of gold dress which is so pretty4 
,scene ,,iv4--,a triumphal arch1 with   
four gilt figures4 ,the ,marquis        
daintily1 with much wrist-twisting1     
offers to put the ring on ,griseldis'   
hand1 who obediently accepts1 while     
pages and trumpeters hold the ,marquis's
 three horses4  ,act ,,ii4 ,scene       
,i4--,a portico4 ,griseldis reluctantly1
 but obediently1 gives up her baby4     
,scene ,,ii4--,a conspirator in black   
cloak and red stockings walks off with  
it on the tips of his toes1 and then    
returns and tells the ,marquis that his 
,magnificence's orders have been        
executed4 ,scene ,,iii4--,giannucole1   
father of ,griseldis1 having been sent  
for1 arrives in his best ,sunday cloak4 

,the ,marquis in red1 with a crown on1  
says1 standing hand on hip1 ,you see1   
after that ,i really cannot keep her on 
any longer4 ,several small dogs sniff at
 each other in the background4 ,scene   
,v4--,triumphal arch1 with bear chained 
to it1 peacock1 tame deer1 crowd of     
courtiers4 ,a lawyer reads the act of   
divorce4 ,the ,marquis steps forward to 
,grizel with hands raised1 ,after this  
kind of behaviour1 it is quite          
impossible for me to live with you any  
longer4 ,griseldis is ladylike and      
resigned4 ,the ,marquis says with       
acrimonious politeness1 ,i am sorry1    
madam1 ,i must trouble you to restore to
 me those garments before departing from
 my house4 ,griseldis slowly let her    
golden frock fall to her feet1 then     
walks off 7,scene ,,vi47 towards the    
little pink farm1 where her father is   
driving the sheep4 ,the courtiers look  
on and say1 ,dear1 dear1 what very      
strange things do happen6  ,act ,,iii4  
,scene ,i4--,outside ,giannucole's farm4

 ,the ,marquis below4 ,griseldis at the 
balcony4 ,he says1 ,i want to hire you  
as a maid4 ,yes1 my ,lord4 ,scene       
,,ii4--,a portico1 with a large company 
at dinner4 ,the ,marquis introduces his 
supposed bride and brother-in-law1 in   
reality his own children4 ,he turns     
round to ,griseldis1 who is waiting at  
table1 and bids her be a little more    
careful what she is about with those    
dishes4 ,scene ,,iii4--,dumb show4      
,griseldis1 in her black smock1 is      
sweeping out the future ,marchioness's  
chamber4 ,scene ,,iv4--,at table4 ,the  
,marquis suddenly bids ,griseldis1 who  
is waiting1 come and sit by him2 he     
kisses her1 and points at the supposed  
bride and brother-in-law4 ,those are our
 children1 dear4 ,a young footman is    
quite amazed4 ,scene ,v4--,a procession 
of caparisoned horse1 and giraffes      
carrying monkeys4 ,a grand supper4 ,and 
they live happy ever after4  ,but the   
fairy tale1 beyond all others1 with     
these painters of the fifteenth century1

 is the antique myth4 ,no ,bibbienas and
 ,bembos and ,calvos have as yet        
indoctrinated them 7as ,raphael1 alas6  
was indoctrinated7 with the real spirit 
of classical times1 teaching them that  
the essence of antiquity was to have no 
essence at all2 no ,ariostos and ,tassos
 have taught the world at large the real
 ,ovidian conception1 the monumental    
allegoric nature and tendency to vacant 
faces and sprawling1 big-toed nudity of 
the heroes and goddesses as ,giulio     
,romano and the ,caracci so well        
understood to paint them4 ,for all the  
humanists that hung about courts1 the   
humanities had not penetrated much into 
the ,italian people4 ,the imaginative   
form and colour was still purely        
medival2 and the artists of the early   
,renaissance had to work out their      
,ovidian stories for themselves1 and    
work them out of their own material4    
,hence the mythological creatures of    
these early painters are all1 more or   
less1 gods in exile1 with that charm of 

a long residence in the ,middle ,ages   
which makes1 for instance1 the          
sweetheart of ,ritter ,tannhuser so     
infinitely more seductive than the      
paramour of ,adonis2 that charm which1  
when we meet it occasionally in         
literature1 in parts of ,spenser1 for   
instance1 or in a play like ,peel's     
,arraignment of ,paris1 is so peculiarly
 delightful4  ,these early painters have
 made up their ,paganism for themselves1
 out of all pleasant things they knew2  
their fancy has brooded upon it2 and the
 very details that make us laugh1 the   
details coming direct from the ,middle  
,ages1 the spirit in glaring opposition 
occasionally to that of ,antiquity1     
bring home to us how completely this    
,pagan fairyland is a genuine reality to
 these men4 ,we feel this in nearly all 
the work of that sort--least1 in the    
archological ,mantegna's4 ,we see it    
beginning in the mere single            
figures--the various drawings of        
,orpheus1 ,orpheus le doux menestrier   

jouant de flutes et de musettes1 as     
,villon called him1 much about that     
time--piping or fiddling among little   
toy animals out of a ,nuremberg box2 the
 drawing of fauns carrying sheep1 some  
with a queer look of the ,good ,shepherd
 about them1 of ,pinturicchio2 and      
rising to such wonderful exhibitions 7to
 me1 with their obscure reminiscence of 
pageants1 they always seem like ballets7
 as ,perugino's ,ceiling of the ,cambio1
 where1 among arabesqued constellations1
 the gods of antiquity move gravely     
along3 the bearded knight ,mars1 armed  
cap--pie like a medival warrior2 the    
delicate ,mercurius1 a beautiful        
page-boy stripped of his emblazoned     
clothes2 ,luna dragged along by two     
nymphs2 and ,venus daintily poised on   
one foot on her dove-drawn chariot1 the 
exquisite ,venus in her clinging veils1 
conquering the world with the demure    
gravity and adorable primness of a      
high-born young abbess4  ,the actual    
fairy story becomes1 little by little1  

more complete--the painters of the      
fifteenth century work1 little guessing 
it1 are the precursors of ,walter       
,crane4 ,the full-page illustration of a
 tale of semi-medival romance--of a     
romance like ,spenser's ,fairy ,queen or
 ,mr4 ,morris's ,earthly ,paradise1     
exists distinctly in that picture and   
drawing1 by the young ,raphael or       
whomsoever else1 of ,apollo and         
,marsyas4#i ,this piping ,marsyas seated
 by the tree stump1 this naked ,apollo1 
thin and hectic like an undressed       
archangel1 standing against the ,umbrian
 valley with its distant blue hills1 its
 castellated village1 its delicate1     
thinly-leaved trees--things we know so  
well in connection with the ,madonna and
 ,saints1 that this seems absent for    
only a few minutes--all this is as      
little like ,ovid as the triumphant     
antique ,galatea of ,raphael is like    
,spenser4 ,again1 there is ,piero di    
,cosimo's ,death of ,procris3 the poor  
young woman lying dead by the lake1 with

 the little fishing town in the         
distance1 the swans sailing and cranes  
strutting1 and the dear young faun--no  
,praxitelian god with invisible ears1   
still less the obscene beast whom the   
late ,renaissance copied from           
,antiquity--a most gentle1 furry1 rustic
 creature1 stooping over her in puzzled1
 pathetic concern1 at a loss1 with his  
want of the practice of cities and the  
knowledge of womankind1 what to do for  
this poor lady lying among the reeds and
 the flowering scarlet sage2 a creature 
the last of whose kind 7friendly1 shy1  
woodland things1 half bears or half     
dogs1 frequent in medival legend71 is   
the satyr of ,fletcher's ,faithful      
,shepherdess1 the only poetic conception
 in that gross and insipid piece of     
magnificent rhetoric4 ,the perfection of
 the style must naturally be sought from
 ,botticelli1 and in his ,birth of      
,venus 7but who may speak of that after 
the writer of most subtle fancy1 of most
 exquisite language1 among living       

,englishman87#aj ,this goddess1 not     
triumphant but sad in her pale beauty1 a
 king's daughter bound by some charm to 
flit on her shell over the rippling sea1
 until the winds blow it in the kingdom 
of the good fairy ,spring1 who shelters 
her in her laurel grove and covers her  
nakedness with the wonderful mantle of  
fresh-blown flowers4444    ,footnote #i3
 ,i believe now unanimously given to    
,pinturicchio4    ,footnote #aj3 ,alas6 
no longer among the living1 though among
 those   whose spiritual part will never
 die4 ,walter ,pater died ,july #ahid3 a
   man whose sense of loveliness and    
dignity made him1 in mature life1   as  
learned in moral beauty as he had been  
in visible4  ,but the imagination born  
of the love of beautiful and suggestive 
detail soars higher2 become what ,i     
would call the lyric art of the         
,renaissance1 the art which not merely  
gives us beauty1 but stirs up in        
ourselves as much beauty again of       
stored-up impression1 reaches its       

greatest height in certain ,venetian    
pictures of the early sixteenth century4
 ,pictures of vague or enigmatic        
subject1 or no subject at all1 like     
,giorgione's ,fte ,champtre and ,soldier
 and ,gipsy1 ,titian's ,sacred and      
,profane ,love1 ,the ,three ,ages of    
,man1 and various smaller pictures by   
,bonifazio1 ,palma1 ,basaiti2 pictures  
of young men in velvets and brocades1   
solemn women with only the glory of     
their golden hair and flesh1 seated in  
the grass1 old men looking on pensive1  
children rolling about2 with the        
solemnity of great1 spreading trees1 of 
greenish evening skies3 the pathos of   
the song about to begin or just         
finished1 lute or viol or pipe still    
lying hard by4 ,of such pictures it is  
best1 perhaps1 not to speak4 ,the       
suggestive imagination is wandering     
vaguely1 dreaming2 fumbling at random   
sweet1 strange chords out of its viol1  
like those young men and maidens4 ,the  
charm of such works is that they are    

never explicit2 they tell us1 like      
music1 deep secrets1 which we feel1 but 
cannot translate into words4   ,,iv     
,the first new factor in art which meets
 us at the beginning of the sixteenth   
century is not among the ,italians1 and 
is not a merely artistic power4 ,i speak
 of the passionate individual fervour   
for the newly recovered ,scriptures1    
manifest among the ,german engravers1   
,protestants all or nearly all1 and     
among whose works is for ever turning up
 the sturdy1 passionate face of ,luther1
 the enthusiastic face of ,melanchthon4 
,the very nature of these men's art is  
conceivable only where the ,bible has   
suddenly become the reading1 and the    
chief reading1 of the laity4 ,these     
prints1 large and small1 struck off in  
large numbers1 are not church ornaments 
like frescoes or pictures1 nor aids to  
monastic devotion like ,angelico's      
,gospel histories at ,st4 ,mark's--they 
are illustrations to the book which     
every one is reading1 things to be      

framed in the chamber of every burgher  
or mechanic1 to be slipped into the     
prayer-book of every housewife1 to be   
conned over during the long afternoons1 
by the children near the big stove or   
among the gooseberry bushes of the      
garden4 ,and they are1 therefore1 much  
more than the ,giottesque inventions1   
the expression of the individual        
artist's ideas about the incidents of   
,scripture2 and an expression not for   
the multitude at large1 fresco or mosaic
 that could be elaborated by a sceptical
 or godless artist1 but a re-explanation
 as from man to man and friend3 this is 
how the dear ,lord looked1 or           
acted--see1 the words in the ,bible are 
so or so forth4 ,therefore1 there enters
 into these designs1 which contain after
 all only the same sort of skill which  
was rife in ,italy1 so much homeliness  
at once1 and poignancy and sublimity of 
imagination4 ,the ,virgin1 they have    
discovered1 is not that grandly dressed 
lady1 always in the very finest brocade1

 with the very finest manners1 and      
holding a divine infant that has no     
earthly wants1 whom ,van ,eyck and      
,memling and ,meister ,stephan painted4 
,she is a good young woman1 a fairer    
version of their dear wife1 or the woman
 who might have been that2 no carefully 
selected creature as with the ,italians1
 no well-made studio model1 with figure 
unspoilt by child-bearing1 but a real   
wife and mother1 with real milk in her  
breasts 7the ,italian virgin1 save with 
one or two ,lombards1 is never permitted
 to suckle7#aa1 which she very readily  
and thoroughly gives to the child1      
guiding the little mouth with her       
fingers4 ,and she sits in the lonely    
fields by the hedges and windmills in   
the fair weather2 or in the neat little 
chamber with the walled town visible    
between the pillar of the window1 as in 
,bartholomew ,beham's exquisite design1 
reading1 or suckling1 or sewing1 or     
soothing the fretful baby2 no angels    
around her1 or rarely3 the ,scripture   

says nothing about such a court of      
seraphs as the ,italians and ,flemings1 
the superstitious ,romanists1 always    
placed round the mother of ,christ4 ,it 
is all as it might have happened to     
them2 they translate the ,scripture into
 their everyday life1 they do not pick  
out of it the mere stately and poetic   
incidents like the ,giottesques4 ,this  
everyday life of theirs is crude enough1
 and in many cases nasty enough2 they   
have in those ,german free towns a      
perfect museum of loathsome ugliness1   
born of ill ventilation1 gluttony1      
starvation1 or brutality3 quite fearful 
wrinkled harridans and unabashed fat1   
guzzling harlots1 and men of every      
variety of scrofula1 and wart and belly1
 towards none of which 7the best far    
transcending the worst ,italian ,judas7 
they seem to feel any repugnance4 ,they 
have also a beastly love of horrors2    
their decollations and flagellations are
 quite sickening in detail1 as          
distinguished from the tidy1 decorous   

executions of the early ,italians2 and  
one feels that they do enjoy seeing1 as 
in one of their prints1 the bowels of   
,st4 ,erasmus being taken out with a    
windlass1 or ,jael1 as ,altdorfer has   
shown her in his romantic print1 neatly 
hammering the nail into the head of the 
sprawling1 snoring ,sisera4 ,there is a 
good deal of grossness1 too 7of which1  
among the ,italians1 even ,robetta and  
similar1 there is so little71 in the    
details of village fairs and adventures 
of wenches with their ,schatz2 and a    
strange permeating nightmare1           
gruesomeness of lewd1 warty devils1 made
 up of snouts1 hoofs1 bills1 claws1 and 
incoherent parts of incoherent          
creatures2 of perpetual skeletons       
climbing in trees1 or appearing behind  
flower-beds4 ,but there is also--and    
,holbein's ,dance of ,death1 terrible1  
jocular1 tender1 vulgar and poetic1     
contains it all1 this ,german world--a  
great tenderness4 ,tenderness not merely
 in the heads of women and children1 in 

the fervent embrace of husband and wife 
and mother and daughter2 but in the     
feeling for dumb creatures and inanimate
 things1 the gentle dogs of ,st4        
,hubert1 the deer that crouch among the 
rocks with ,genevieve1 the very tangled 
grasses and larches and gentians that   
hang to the crags1 drawn as no ,italian 
ever drew them2 the quiet1 sentimental  
little landscapes of castles on fir-clad
 hills1 of manor-houses1 gabled and     
chimneyed1 among the reeds and willows  
of shallow ponds4 ,these feelings1      
,teutonic doubtless1 but less medival   
than we might think1 for the ,middle    
,ages of the ,minnesingers were terribly
 conventional1 seem to well up at the   
voice of ,luther2 and it is this which  
make the ,german engravers1 men not     
always of the highest talents1 invent   
new and beautiful ,gospel pictures4 ,of 
these ,i would take two as              
typical--typical of individual fancy    
most strangely contrasting with the     
conventionalism of the ,italians4 ,let  

the reader think of any of the scores of
 ,flights into ,egypt1 and of           
,resurrections by fifteenth-century     
,italians1 or even ,giottesques2 and    
then turn to two prints1 one of each of 
these subjects respectively1 by ,martin 
,schongauer and ,altdorfer4 ,schongauer 
gives a delightful oasis3 palms and     
prickly pears1 the latter conceived as  
growing at the top of a tree2 below1    
lizards at play and deer grazing2 in    
this place the ,virgin has drawn up her 
ass1 who browses the thistles at his    
feet1 while ,st4 ,joseph1 his pilgrim   
bottle bobbing on his back1 hangs       
himself with all his weight to the      
branches of a date palm1 trying to get  
the fruit within reach4 ,meanwhile a    
bevy of sweet little angels have come to
 the rescue2 they sit among the         
branches1 dragging them down towards    
him1 and even bending the whole stem at 
the top so that he may get at the dates4
 ,such a thing as this is quite lovely1 
particularly after the routine of ,st4  

,joseph trudging along after the donkey1
 the eternal theme of the ,italians4 ,in
 ,altdorfer's print ,christ is ascending
 in a glory of sunrise clouds1 banner in
 hand1 angels and cherubs peering with  
shy curiosity round the cloud edge4 ,the
 sepulchre is open1 guards asleep or    
stretching themselves1 and yawning all  
round2 and childish young angels look   
reverently into the empty grave1        
rearranging the cerecloths1 and trying  
to roll back the stone lid4 ,one of them
 leans forward1 and utterly dazzles a   
negro watchman1 stepping forward1       
lantern in hand2 in the distance        
shepherds are seen prowling about4      
,this1 says ,altdorfer to himself1 is   
how it must have happened4    ,footnote 
#aa3 ,and the circular so-called        
,botticelli 7now given1 ,i   believe1 to
 ,san ,gallo7 in the ,national ,gallery4
  ,hence1 among these ,germans1 the     
dreadful seriousness and pathos of the  
,passion1 the violence of the mob1 the  
brutality of the executioners1 above    

all1 the awful sadness of ,christ4      
,there is here somewhat of the          
realisation of what ,he must have felt  
in finding the world ,he had come to    
redeem so vile and cruel4 ,in what way1 
under what circumstances1 such thoughts 
would come to these men1 is revealed to 
us by that magnificent head of the      
suffering ,saviour--a design apparently 
for a carved crucifix--under which      
,albrecht ,drer wrote the pathetic      
words3 ,i drew this in my sickness4     
,thus much of the power of that new     
factor1 the individual interest in the  
,scriptures4 ,all other innovations on  
the treatment of religious themes were  
due1 in the sixteenth century1 but still
 more in the seventeenth1 to the        
development of some new artistic        
possibility1 or to the gathering        
together in the hands of one man of     
artistic powers hitherto existing only  
in a dispersed condition4 ,this is the  
secret of the greatness of ,raphael as a
 pictorial poet1 that he could do all   

manner of new things merely by holding  
all the old means in his grasp4 ,this is
 the secret of those wonderful          
inventions of his1 which do not take our
 breath away like ,michelangelo's or    
,rembrandt's1 but seem at the moment the
 one and only right rendering of the    
subject3 the ,liberation of ,st4 ,peter1
 ,heliodorus1 ,ezechiel1 and the whole  
series of magnificent ,old ,testament   
stories on the ceiling of the ,loggie4  
,in ,raphael we see the perfect         
fulfilment of the ,giottesque programme3
 he can do all that the first theme     
inventors required for the carrying out 
of their ideas2 and therefore he can    
have new1 entirely new1 themes4 ,raphael
 furnishes1 for the first time since    
,giotto1 an almost complete set of      
pictorial interpretations of ,scripture4
  ,we are now1 as we proceed in the     
sixteenth century1 in the region where  
new artistic powers admit of new        
imaginative conceptions on the part of  
the individual4 ,we gain immensely by   

the liberation from the old tradition1  
but we lose immensely also4 ,we get the 
benefit of the fancy and feelings of    
this individual1 but we are at the      
mercy1 also1 of his stupidity and       
vulgarity4 ,of this the great examples  
are ,tintoretto1 and after him          
,velasquez and ,rembrandt4 ,of ,tintoret
 ,i would speak later1 for he is        
eminently the artist in whom the gain   
and the loss are most typified1 and     
perhaps most equally distributed1 and   
because1 therefore1 he contrasts best   
with the masters anterior to ,raphael4  
,the new powers in ,velasquez and       
,rembrandt were connected with the      
problem of light1 or rather1 one might  
say1 in the second case1 of darkness4   
,this new faculty of seizing the        
beauties1 momentary and not inherent in 
the object1 due to the various effects  
of atmosphere and lighting up1 added    
probably a good third to the            
pleasure-bestowing faculty of art2 it   
was the beginning of a kind of          

democratic movement against the stern   
domination of such things as were       
privileged in shape and colour4 ,a      
thousand things1 ugly or unimaginative  
in themselves1 a plain face1 a sallow   
complexion1 an awkward gesture1 a dull  
arrangement of lines1 could be made     
delightful and suggestive4 ,a wet yard1 
a pail and mop1 and a servant washing   
fish under a pump could become1 in the  
hands of ,peter de ,hoogh1 and thanks to
 the magic of light and shade1 as       
beautiful and interesting in their way  
as a swirl of angels and lilies by      
,botticelli4 ,but this redemption of the
 vulgar was at the expense1 as ,i have  
elsewhere pointed out1 of a certain     
growing callousness to vulgarity4 ,what 
holds good as to the actual artistic1   
visible quality1 holds good also as to  
the imaginative value4 ,velasquez's     
,flagellation1 if indeed it be his1 in  
our ,national ,gallery1 has a pathos1 a 
something that catches you by the       
throat1 in that melancholy weary body1  

broken with ignominy and pain1 sinking  
down by the side of the column1 which is
 inseparable from the dreary grey light1
 the livid colour of the flesh--there is
 no joy in the world where such things  
can be4 ,but the angel who has just     
entered has not come from heaven--such a
 creature is fit only to roughly shake  
up the pillows of paupers1 dying in the 
damp dawn in the hospital wards4  ,it   
is1 in a measure1 different with        
,rembrandt1 exactly because he is the   
master1 not of light1 but of darkness1  
or of light that utterly dazzles4 ,his  
ugly women and dirty ,jews of ,rotterdam
 are either hidden in the gloom or      
reduced to mere vague outlines1 specks  
like gnats in the sunshine1 in the      
effulgence of light4 ,hence we can      
enjoy1 almost without any disturbing    
impressions1 the marvellous imagination 
shown in his etchings of ,bible stories4
 ,rembrandt is to ,drer as an archangel 
to a saint3 where the ,german draws1 the
 ,dutchman seems to bite his etching    

plate with elemental darkness and glory4
 ,of these etchings ,i would mention a  
few2 the reader may put these           
indications alongside of his            
remembrances of the ,arena ,chapel1 or  
of ,angelico's cupboard panels in the   
,academy at ,florence3 they show how    
intimately dramatic imagination depends 
in art upon mere technical means1 how   
hopelessly limited to mere indication   
were the early artists1 how forced along
 the path of dramatic realisation are   
the men of modern times4  ,the          
,annunciation to the ,shepherds3 ,the   
heavens open in a circular whirl among  
the storm darkness1 cherubs whirling    
distantly like innumerable motes in a   
sunbeam2 the angel steps forward on a   
ray of light1 projecting into the       
ink-black night4 ,the herds have        
perceived the vision1 and rush headlong 
in all directions1 while the trees groan
 beneath the blast of that opening of   
heaven4 ,a horse1 seen in profile1 with 
the light striking on his eyeball1 seems

 paralysed by terror4 ,the shepherds    
have only just awakened4 ,the ,nativity3
 ,darkness4 ,a vague crowd of country   
folk jostling each other noiselessly4 ,a
 lantern1 a white speck in the centre1  
sheds a smoky1 uncertain light on the   
corner where the ,child sleeps upon the 
pillows1 the ,virgin1 wearied1 resting  
by its side1 her face on her hand4      
,joseph is seated by1 only his head     
visible above his book4 ,the cows are   
just visible in the gloom4 ,the lantern 
is held by a man coming carefully       
forward1 uncovering his head1 the crowd 
behind him4 ,a ,halt on the ,journey to 
,egypt3 ,night4 ,the lantern hung on a  
branch4 ,joseph seated sleepily1 with   
his fur cap drawn down2 the ,virgin and 
,child resting against the packsaddle on
 the ground4 ,an ,interior3 ,the ,virgin
 hugging and rocking the ,child4        
,joseph1 outside1 looks in through the  
window4 ,the ,raising of ,lazarus3 ,a   
vault hung with scimitars1 turbans1 and 
quivers4 ,against the brilliant daylight

 just let in1 the figure of ,christ1    
seen from behind1 stands out in ,his    
long robes1 raising ,his hand to bid the
 dead arise4 ,lazarus1 pale1 ghost-like 
in this effulgence1 slowly1 wearily     
raises his head in the sepulchre4 ,the  
crowd falls back4 ,astonishment1 awe4   
,this coarse ,dutchman has suppressed   
the incident of the bystanders holding  
their nose1 to which the ,giottesques   
clung desperately4 ,this is not a moment
 to think of stenches or infection4     
,entombment3 ,night4 ,the platform below
 the cross4 ,a bier1 empty1 spread with 
a winding-sheet1 an old man arranging it
 at the head4 ,the dead ,saviour being  
slipped down from the cross on a sheet1 
two men on a ladder letting the body    
down1 others below receiving it1 trying 
to prevent the arm from trailing4       
,immense solemnity1 carefulness1        
hushedness4 ,a distant illuminated      
palace blazes out in the night4 ,one    
feels that they are stealing ,him away4 
,i have reversed the chronological order

 and chosen to speak of ,tintoret after 
,rembrandt1 because1 being an ,italian  
and still in contact with some of the   
old tradition1 the great ,venetian can  
show more completely1 both what was     
gained and what was lost in imaginative 
rendering by the liberation of the      
individual artist and the development of
 artistic means4 ,first1 of the gain4   
,this depends mainly upon ,tintoret's   
handling of light and shade1 and his    
foreshortenings3 it enables him to      
compose entirely in huge masses1 to     
divide or concentrate the interest1 to  
throw into vague insignificance the less
 important parts of a situation in order
 to insist upon the more important2 it  
gives him the power also of impressing  
us by the colossal and the ominous4 ,the
 masterpiece of this style1 and probably
 ,tintoret's masterpiece therefore1 is  
the great ,crucifixion at ,s4 ,rocco4   
,to feel its full tragic splendour one  
must think of the finest things which   
the early ,renaissance achieved1 such as

 ,luini's beautiful fresco at ,lugano2  
by the side of the painting at ,s4      
,rocco everything is tame1 except1      
perhaps1 ,rembrandt's etching called the
 ,three ,crosses4 ,after this1 and      
especially to be compared with the      
frescoes of ,masaccio and ,ghirlandaio  
of the same subject1 comes the ,baptism 
of ,christ4 ,the old details of figures 
dressing and undressing1 which gave so  
much pleasure to earlier painters1 for  
instance1 ,piero della ,francesca1 in   
the ,national ,gallery1 are entirely    
omitted1 as the nose-holding in the     
,raising of ,lazarus1 is omitted by     
,rembrandt4 ,christ kneels in the       
,jordan1 with ,john bending over him1   
and vague multitudes crowding the banks1
 distant1 dreamlike beneath the yellow  
storm-light4 ,of ,tintoret's ,christ    
before ,pilate1 of that figure of the   
,saviour1 long1 straight1 wrapped in    
white and luminous like his own wraith1 
,i have spoken already4 ,but ,i must    
speak of the ,s4 ,rocco ,christ in the  

,garden1 as imaginative as anything by  
,rembrandt1 and infinitely more         
beautiful4 ,the moonlight tips the      
draperies of the three sleeping         
apostles1 gigantic1 solemn4 ,above1     
among the bushes1 leaning ,his head on  
,his hand1 is seated ,christ1 weary to  
death1 numbed by grief and isolation1   
recruiting for final resistance4 ,the   
sense of being abandoned of all men and 
of ,god has never been brought home in  
this way by any other painter2 the      
little tear-stained ,saviours1 praying  
in broad daylight1 of ,perugino and his 
fellows1 are mere distressed mortals4   
,this betrayed and resigned ,saviour has
 upon ,him the weltschmerz of           
,prometheus4 ,but even here we begin to 
feel the loss1 as well as the gain1 of  
the painter being forced from the       
dramatic routine of earlier days3       
instead of the sweet1 tearful little    
angel of the early ,renaissance1 there  
comes to this tragic ,christ1 in a      
blood-red nimbus1 a brutal winged       

creature thrusting the cup in ,his face4
 ,the uncertainty of ,tintoret's        
inspirations1 the uncertainty of result 
of these astonishing pictorial methods  
of attaining the dramatic1 the          
occasional vapidness and vulgarity of   
the man1 unrestrained by any stately    
tradition like the vapidness and        
vulgarity of so many earlier masters1#ab
 comes out already at ,s4 ,rocco4 ,and  
principally in the scene of the         
,temptation1 a theme rarely1 if ever1   
treated before the sixteenth century1   
and which ,tintoret has made unspeakably
 mean in its unclean and dramatically   
impotent suggestiveness3 the ,saviour   
parleying from a kind of rustic edifice 
with a good-humoured1 fat1 half feminine
 ,satan1 fluttering with pink wings like
 some smug seraph of ,bernini's pupils4 
,after this it is scarce necessary to   
speak of whatever is dramatically       
abortive 7because successfully          
expressing just the wrong sort of       
sentiment1 the wrong situation7 in      

,tintoret's work3 his ,woman taken in   
,adultery1 with the dapper young ,rabbi1
 offended neither by adultery in general
 nor by this adulteress in particular2  
the ,washing of the ,feet1 in ,london1  
where the conversation appears to turn  
upon the excessive hotness or coldness  
of the water in the tub2 the ,last      
,supper at ,s4 ,giorgio ,maggiore1      
where1 among the mysterious wreaths of  
smoke peopled with angels1 ,christ rises
 from ,his seat and holds the cup to    
,his neighbour's lips with the gesture1 
as ,he says1 ,this is ,my blood1 of a   
conjuror to an incredulous and          
indifferent audience4 ,to ,tintoret the 
contents of the chalice is the          
all-important matter3 where is the      
majesty of the old ,giottesque gesture1 
preserved by ,leonardo1 of pushing      
forward the bread with one hand1 the    
wine with the other1 and thus uncovering
 the head and breast of the ,saviour1   
the gesture which does indeed mean--,i  
am the bread you shall eat1 and the wine

 you shall drink8 ,there remains1       
however1 to mention another work of     
,tintoret's which1 coming in contact    
with one's recollections of earlier art1
 may suggest strange doubts and well    
nigh shake one's faith in the           
imaginative efficacy of all that went   
before3 his enormous canvas of the ,last
 ,day1 at ,s4 ,maria dell' ,orto4 ,the  
first and overwhelming impression1 even 
before one has had time to look into    
this apocalyptic work1 is that no one   
could have conceived such a thing in    
earlier days1 not even ,michelangelo    
when he painted his ,last ,judgment1 nor
 ,raphael when he designed the ,vision  
of ,ezechiel4 ,this is1 indeed1 one     
thinks1 a revelation of the end of all  
things4 ,great storm clouds1 whereon    
throne the ,almighty and ,his ,elect1   
brood over the world1 across which1     
among the crevassed1 upheaving earth1   
pours the wide glacier torrent of ,styx1
 with the boat of ,charon struggling    
across its precipitous waters4 ,the     

angels1 confused with the storm clouds  
of which they are the spirit1 lash the  
damned down to the ,hell stream1 band   
upon band1 even from the far distance4  
,and in the foreground the rocks are    
splitting1 the soil is upheaving with   
the dead beneath2 here protrudes a huge 
arm1 there a skull2 in one place the    
clay1 rising1 has assumed the vague     
outline of the face below4 ,in the rocks
 and water1 among the clutching1        
gigantic men1 the huge1 full-bosomed    
woman1 tosses a frightful half-fleshed  
carcass1 grass still growing from his   
finger tips1 his grinning skull1 covered
 half with hair and half with weeds1    
greenish and mouldering3 a sinner still 
green in earth and already arising4     
,footnote #ab3 ,how peccable is the     
individual imagination1 unchastened   by
 tradition6 ,i find among the           
illustrations of ,mr4 ,berenson's very  
valuable monograph on ,lotto1 a most    
curious instance in point4 ,this        
psychological1 earnest painter has been 

betrayed1 by his morbid   nervousness of
 temper1 into making the starting of a  
cat into the   second most important    
incident in his ,annunciation4  ,a      
wonderful picture3 a marvellous         
imaginative mind1 with marvellous       
imaginative means at his command4 ,yet1 
let us ask ourselves1 what is the value 
of the result8 ,a magnificent display of
 attitudes and forms1 a sort of bravura 
ghastliness and impressiveness1 which   
are in a sense barrocco1 reminding us of
 the wax plague models of ,florence and 
of certain poems of ,baudelaire's4 ,but 
of the feeling1 the poetry of this      
greatest of all scenes1 what is there8  
,and1 standing before it1 ,i think      
instinctively of that chapel far off on 
the windswept ,umbrian rock1 with       
,signorelli's ,resurrection3 a flat wall
 accepted as a flat wall1 no place1     
nowhere4 ,a half-dozen groups1 not      
closely combined4 ,colour reduced to    
monochrome2 light and shade nowhere1 as 
nowhere also all these devices of       

perspective4 ,but in that simply treated
 fresco1 with its arrangement as simple 
as that of a vast antique bas-relief1   
there is an imaginative suggestion far  
surpassing this of ,tintoret's4 ,the    
breathless effort of the youths breaking
 through the earth's crust1 shaking     
their long hair and gasping2 the stagger
 of those rising to their feet2 the     
stolidity1 hand on hip1 of those who    
have recovered their body but not their 
mind1 blinded by the light1 deafened by 
the trumpets of ,judgment2 the absolute 
self-abandonment of those who can raise 
themselves no higher2 the dull1         
awe-stricken look of those who have     
found their companions1 clasping each   
other in vague1 weak wonder2 and        
further1 under the two archangels who   
stoop downwards with the pennons of     
their trumpets streaming in the blast1  
those figures who beckon to the re-found
 beloved ones1 or who shade their eyes  
and point to a glory on the horizon1 or 
who1 having striven forward1 sink on    

their knees1 overcome by a vision which 
they alone can behold4 ,and recollecting
 that fresco of ,signorelli's1 you feel 
as if this vast1 tall canvas at ,s4     
,maria dell' ,orto1 where topple and    
welter the dead and the quick1 were     
merely so much rhetorical rhodomontade  
by the side of the old hymn of the ,last
 ,day--   ,mors stupebit et natura      
,quum resurget creatura   ,judicanti    
responsura4   ,v  ,again1 in the chaos  
of newly-developing artistic means1 and 
of struggling individual imaginations1  
we get once more1 at the end of the     
eighteenth century1 to what we found at 
the beginning of the fourteenth3 the art
 that does not show1 but merely speaks4 
,we find it in what1 of all things1 are 
the apparently most different to the    
quiet and placid outline illustration of
 the ,giottesque3 in the terrible       
portfolio of ,goya's etchings1 called   
the ,disasters of ,war4 ,like ,drer and 
,rembrandt1 the great ,spaniard is at   
once extremely realistic and extremely  

imaginative4 ,but his realism means     
fidelity1 not to the real aspect of     
things1 of the thing in itself1 so to   
speak1 but to the way in which things   
will appear to the spectator at a given 
moment4 ,he isolates what you might call
 a case1 separating it from the         
multitude of similar cases1 giving you  
one execution where several must be     
going on1 one firing off of cannon1 one 
or two figures in a burning or a        
massacre2 and his technique conduces    
thereunto1 blurring a lot1 rendering    
only the outline and gesture1 and that  
outline and gesture frequently so       
momentary as to be confused4 ,but he is 
real beyond words in his reproduction of
 the way in which such dreadful things  
must stamp themselves upon the mind4    
,they are isolated1 concentrated1       
distorted3 the multiplicity of horrors  
making the perceiving mind more         
sensitive1 morbid as from opium eating1 
and thus making the single impression1  
which excludes all the rest1 more vivid 

and tremendous than1 without that       
unconsciously perceived rest1 it could  
possibly be4 ,nay1 more1 these scenes   
are not merely rather such as they were 
recollected than as they really were    
seen2 they are such as they were        
recollected in the minds and feelings of
 peasants and soldiers1 of people who   
could not free their attention to       
arrange all these matters logically1 to 
give them their relative logical value4 
,the slaughtering soldiers--,spaniards1 
,english1 or ,french--of the ,napoleonic
 period become in his plates ,turks1    
,saracens1 huge vague things in half    
,oriental costumes1 whiskered1 almost   
turbaned in their fur caps1 they become 
almost ogres1 even as they must have    
done in the popular mind4 ,the shooting 
of deserters and prisoners is reduced to
 the figures at the stake1 the six      
carbine muzzles facing them3 no shooting
 soldiers1 no stocks to the carbines1   
any more than in the feeling of the man 
who was being shot4 ,the artistic       

training1 the habit of deliberately or  
unconsciously looking for visible       
effects which all educated moderns      
possess1 prevents even our writers from 
thus reproducing what has been the      
actual mental reality4 ,but ,goya does  
not for a moment let us suspect the     
presence of the artist1 the             
quasi-writer4 ,the impression reproduced
 is the impression1 not of the artistic 
bystander1 but of the sufferer or the   
sufferer's comrades4 ,this makes him    
extraordinarily faithful to the         
epigraphs of his plates4 ,we feel that  
the woman1 all alone1 without           
bystanders1 earthworks1 fascines1 smoke1
 c41 firing off the cannon1 is the woman
 as she is remembered by the creature   
who exclaims1 ,que valor6 ,we feel that 
the half-dead soldier being stripped1   
the condemned turning his head aside as 
far as the rope will permit1 the man    
fallen crushed beneath his horse or     
vomiting out his blood1 is the wretch   
who exclaims1 ,por eso soy nacido6 ,they

 are1 these etchings of ,goya's1 the    
representation of the sufferings1 real  
and imaginative1 of the real sufferers4 
,in the most absolute sense they are the
 art which does not merely show1 but    
tells2 the suggestive and dramatic art  
of the individual1 unaided and          
unhampered by tradition1 indifferent to 
form and technicality1 the art which    
even like the art of the immediate      
predecessors of ,giotto1 those ,giuntas 
and ,berlinghieris1 who left us the     
hideous and terrible ,crucifixions1 says
 to the world1 ,you shall understand and
 feel4     ,,tuscan ,,sculpture   ,i    
,we are all of us familiar with the two 
adjacent rooms at ,south ,kensington    
which contain1 respectively1 the casts  
from antique sculpture and those from   
the sculpture of the ,renaissance2 and  
we are familiar also with the sense of  
irritation or of relief which           
accompanies our passing from one of them
 to the other4 ,this feeling is typical 
of our frame of mind towards various    

branches of the same art1 and1 indeed1  
towards all things which might be alike1
 but happen to be unlike4 ,times1       
countries1 nations1 temperaments1 ideas1
 and tendencies1 all benefit and suffer 
alternately by our habit of considering 
that if two things of one sort are not  
identical1 one must be in the right and 
the other in the wrong4 ,the act of     
comparison evokes at once our innate    
tendency to find fault2 and having found
 fault1 we rarely perceive that1 on     
better comparing1 there may be no fault 
at all to find4  ,as the result of such 
comparison1 we shall find that          
,renaissance sculpture is unrestful1    
huddled1 lacking selection of form and  
harmony of proportions2 it reproduces   
ugliness and perpetuates effort2 it is  
sometimes grotesque1 and frequently     
vulgar4 ,or again1 that antique         
sculpture is conventional1 insipid1     
monotonous1 without perception for the  
charm of detail or the interest of      
individuality2 afraid of movement and   

expression1 and at the same time        
indifferent to outline and grouping2    
giving us florid nudities which never   
were alive1 and which are doing and     
thinking nothing whatever4 ,thus1       
according to which room or which mood we
 enter first1 we are sure to experience 
either irritation at wrong-headedness or
 relief at right-doing2 whether we pass 
from the sculpture of ancient ,greece to
 the sculpture of medival ,italy1 or    
vice vers4  ,but a more patient         
comparison of these two branches of     
sculpture1 and of the circumstances     
which made each what it was1 will enable
 us to enjoy the very different merits  
of both1 and will teach us also         
something of the vital processes of the 
particular spiritual organism which we  
call an art4  ,in the early phase of the
 philosophy of art--a phase lingering on
 to our own day in the works of certain 
critics--the peculiarities of a work of 
art were explained by the peculiarities 
of character of the artist3 the         

paintings of ,raphael and the music of  
,mozart partook of the gentleness of    
their life2 while the figures of        
,michelangelo and the compositions of   
,beethoven were the outcome of their    
misanthropic ruggedness of temper4 ,the 
insufficiency1 often the falseness1 of  
such explanations became evident when   
critics began to perceive that the works
 of one time and country usually        
possessed certain common peculiarities  
which did not correspond to any         
resemblance between the characters of   
their respective artists2 peculiarities 
so much more dominant than any others1  
that a statue or a picture which was    
unsigned and of obscure history was     
constantly attributed to half-a-dozen   
contemporary sculptors or painters by   
half-a-dozen equally learned critics4   
,the recognition of this fact led to the
 substitution of the environment 7the   
milieu of ,monsieur ,taine7 as an       
explanation of the characteristics1 no  
longer of a single work of art1 but of a

 school or group of kindred works4      
,greek art henceforth was the serene    
outcome of a serene civilisation of     
athletes1 poets1 and philosophers1      
living with untroubled consciences in a 
good climate1 with slaves and helots to 
char for them while they ran races1     
discussed elevated topics1 and took part
 in ,panathenaic processions1 riding    
half naked on prancing horses1 or       
carrying olive branches and sacrificial 
vases in honour of a divine patron1 in  
whom they believed only as much as they 
liked4 ,and the art of the ,middle ,ages
 was the fantastic1 far-fetched1 and    
often morbid production of nations of   
crusaders and theologians1 burning      
heretics1 worshipping ladies1 seeing    
visions1 and periodically joining hands 
in a vertiginous death-reel1 whose      
figures were danced from country to     
country4 ,this new explanation1 while   
undoubtedly less misleading than the    
other one1 had the disadvantage of      
straining the characteristics of a      

civilisation or of an art in order to   
tally with its product or producer2 it  
forgot that ,antiquity was not wholly   
represented by the frieze of the        
,parthenon1 and that the ,gothic        
cathedrals and the frescoes of ,giotto  
had characteristics more conspicuous    
than morbidness and insanity4           
,moreover1 in the same way that the old 
personal criticism was unable to account
 for the resemblance between the works  
of different individuals of the same    
school1 so the theory of the environment
 fails to explain certain qualities     
possessed in common by various schools  
of art and various arts which have      
arisen under the pressure of different  
civilisations2 and it is obliged to slur
 over the fact that the sculpture of the
 time of ,pericles and ,alexander1 the  
painting of the early sixteenth century1
 and the music of the age of ,handel1   
,haydn1 and ,mozart are all very much   
more like one another in their serene   
beauty than they are any of them like   

the other productions1 artistic or      
human1 of their environment4 ,behind    
this explanation there must therefore be
 another1 not controverting the portion 
of truth it contains1 but completing it 
by the recognition of a relation more   
intimate than that of the work of art   
with its environment3 the relation of   
form and material4 ,the perceptions of  
the artist1 what he sees and how he sees
 it1 can be transmitted to others only  
through processes as various as         
themselves3 hair seen as colour is best 
imitated with paint1 hair seen as form  
with twisted metal wire4 ,it is as      
impossible to embody certain perceptions
 in some stages of handicraft as it     
would be to construct a complex machine 
in a rudimentary condition of mechanics4
 ,certain modes of vision require       
certain methods of painting1 and these  
require certain kinds of surface and    
pigment4 ,until these exist1 a man may  
see correctly1 but he cannot reproduce  
what he is seeing4 ,in short1 the work  

of art represents the meeting of a mode 
of seeing and feeling 7determined partly
 by individual characteristics1 partly  
by those of the age and country7 and of 
a mode of treating materials1 a craft   
which may itself be1 like the mind of   
the artist1 in a higher or lower stage  
of development4  ,the early ,greeks had 
little occasion to become skilful       
carvers of stone4 ,their buildings1     
which reproduced a very simple wooden   
structure1 were ornamented with little  
more than the imitation of the original 
carpentering2 for the ,ionic order1 poor
 as it is of ornament1 came only later2 
and the ,corinthian1 which alone offered
 scope for variety and skill of carving1
 arose only when figure sculpture was   
mature4 ,but the ,greeks1 being only    
just in the iron period 7and iron1 by   
the way1 is the tool for stone71 were   
great moulders of clay and casters of   
metal4 ,the things which later ages made
 of iron1 stone1 or wood1 they made of  
clay or bronze4 ,the thousands of       

exquisite utensils1 weapons1 and toys in
 our museums make this apparent2 from   
the bronze greaves delicately modelled  
like the legs they were to cover1 to the
 earthenware dolls1 little ,venuses1    
exquisitely dainty1 with articulated    
legs and go-carts4  ,hence the human    
figure came to be imitated by a process 
which was not sculpture in the literal  
sense of carving4 ,it is significant    
that the ,latin word whence we get      
effigy has also given us fictile1 the   
making of statues being thus connected  
with the making of pots2 and that the   
whole vocabulary of ancient authors     
shows that they thought of statuary not 
as akin to cutting and chiselling1 but  
to moulding 7,greek3 plass  fingo71     
shaping out of clay on the wheel or with
 the modelling tool4#ac ,it seems       
probable that marble-work was but rarely
 used for the round until the sixth     
century2 and the treatment of the hair1 
the propping of projecting limbs and    
drapery1 makes it obvious that a large  

proportion of the antiques in our       
possession are marble copies of         
long-destroyed bronzes4#ad ,so that the 
,greek statue1 even if eventually       
destined for marble1 was conceived by a 
man having the habit of modelling in    
clay4    ,footnote #ac3 ,i am confirmed 
in these particulars by my friend       
,miss ,eugenie ,sellers1 whose studies  
of the ancient authorities on           
art--,lucian1 ,pausanias1 ,pliny1 and   
others1 will be the more fruitful   that
 they are associated with               
knowledge--uncommon in archologists--of 
more modern artistic processes4         
,footnote #ad3 ,this becomes            
overwhelmingly obvious on reading       
,professor   ,furtwngler's great        
,masterpieces of ,greek ,sculpture4     
,praxiteles   appears to have been      
exceptional in his preference for       
marble4  ,let us turn from early ,greece
 to medival ,italy4 ,hammered iron had  
superseded bronze for weapons and       
armour1 and silver and gold1 worked with

 the chisel1 for ornaments4 ,on the     
other hand1 the introduction from the   
,east of glazed pottery had banished to 
the art of the glass-blower all fancy in
 shaping utensils4 ,there was no demand 
in common life for cast metal-work1 and 
there being no demand for casting1 there
 was no practice either in its cognate  
preliminary art of moulding clay4       
,hence1 such bronze work as originated  
was very unsatisfactory2 the lack of    
skill in casting1 and the consequent    
elaboration of bronze-work with the     
file1 lasting late into the             
,renaissance4 ,but the men of the       
,middle ,ages were marvellously skilful 
carvers of stone4 ,architecture1 ever   
since the ,roman time1 had given more   
and more importance to sculptured       
ornament3 already exquisite in the early
 ,byzantine screens and capitals1 it    
developed through the elaborate         
mouldings1 traceries1 and columns of the
 ,lombard style into the art of         
elaborate reliefs and groups of the     

full-blown ,gothic2 indeed the ,gothic  
church is1 in ,italy1 the work no longer
 of the mason1 but of the sculptor4 ,it 
is no empty coincidence that the        
hillside villages which still supply    
,florence with stone and with           
stonemasons should have given their     
names to three of its greatest          
sculptors1 ,mino da ,fiesole1 ,desiderio
 da ,settignano1 and ,benedetto da      
,maiano2 that ,michelangelo should have 
told ,vasari that the chisel and mallet 
had come to him with the milk of his    
nurse1 a stonecutter's wife from those  
same slopes1 down which jingle to-day   
the mules carting ready-shaped stone    
from the quarries4 ,the medival         
,tuscans1 the ,pisans of the thirteenth1
 and the ,florentines of the fifteenth  
century1 evidently made small wax or    
clay sketches of their statues2 but     
their works are conceived and executed  
in the marble1 and their art has come   
out of the stone without interposition  
of other material1 even as the figures  

which ,michelangelo chopped1 living and 
colossal1 direct out of the block4#ae   
,footnote #ae3 ,interesting details in  
,vasari's treatise1 and in his   ,lives 
of ,j4 della ,quercia1 ,ferrucci1 and   
other sculptors4  ,the ,greek1          
therefore1 was a moulder of clay1 a     
caster of bronze1 in the early time when
 the art acquires its character and     
takes its direction2 in that period1 on 
the contrary1 the ,tuscan was a chaser  
of silver1 a hammerer of iron1 above all
 a cutter of stone4 ,now clay 7and we   
must remember that bronze is originally 
clay7 means the modelled plane and      
succession of planes smoothed and       
rounded by the finger1 the imitation of 
all nature's gently graduated swellings 
and depressions1 the absolute form as it
 exists to the touch2 but clay does not 
give interesting light and shade1 and   
bronze is positively blurred by high    
lights2 and neither clay nor bronze has 
any resemblance to the texture of human 
limbs or drapery3 it gives the form1 but

 not the stuff4 ,it is the exact reverse
 with marble4 ,granulated like a living 
fibre1 yet susceptible of a delicate    
polish1 it can imitate the actual       
substance of human flesh1 with its      
alternations of opacity and             
luminousness2 it can reproduce1 beneath 
the varied strokes of the chisel1 the   
grain1 running now one way1 now another1
 which is given to the porous skin by   
the close-packed bone and muscle below4 
,moreover1 it is so docile1 so soft1 yet
 so resistant1 that the iron can cut it 
like butter or engrave it lightly like  
agate2 so that the shadows may pour deep
 into chasms and pools1 or run over the 
surface in a network of shallow threads2
 light and shade becoming the artist's  
material as much as the stone itself4   
,the ,greek1 as a result1 perceived form
 not as an appearance1 but as a reality2
 saw with the eye the complexities of   
projection and depression perceivable by
 the hand4 ,his craft was that of       
measurements1 of minute proportion1 of  

delicate concave and convex--in one     
word1 of planes4 ,his dull1 malleable   
clay1 and ductile1 shining bronze had   
taught him nothing of the way in which  
light and shadow corrode1 blur1 and     
pattern a surface4 ,his fancy1 his      
skill1 embraced the human form like the 
gypsum of the moulder1 received the     
stamp of its absolute being4 ,the beauty
 he sought was concrete1 actual1 the    
same in all lights and from all points  
of view3 the comely man himself1 not the
 beautiful marble picture4  ,the marble 
picture1 on the other hand--a picture in
 however high and complete relief--a    
picture for a definite point of view1   
arranged by receiving light projected at
 a given angle on a surface cut deep or 
shallow especially to receive it--was   
produced by the sculpture that          
spontaneously grew out of the           
architectural stone-cutting of the      
,byzantine and ,lombard schools4 ,the   
mouldings on a church1 still more the   
stone ornaments of its capitals1 pulpit1

 and choir rails1 seen1 as they are1    
each at various and peculiar heights    
above the eye1 under light which1       
however varying1 can never get behind or
 above them if outdoor1 below or in     
flank if indoor--these mouldings1 part  
of a great architectural pattern of     
black and white1 inevitably taught the  
masons all the subtle play of light and 
surface1 all the deceits of position and
 perspective4 ,and the mere manipulation
 of the marble taught them1 as we have  
seen1 the exquisite finenesses of       
surface1 texture1 crease1 accent1 and   
line4 ,what the figure actually was--the
 real proportions and planes1 the actual
 form of the model--did not matter2 no  
hand was to touch it1 no eye to measure2
 it was to be delightful only in the    
position which the artist chose1 and in 
no other had it a right to be seen4     
,,ii  ,these were the two arts1         
originating from a material and a habit 
of work which were entirely different1  
and which produced artistic necessities 

diametrically opposed4 ,it might be     
curious to speculate upon what would    
have resulted had their position in     
history been reversed2 what statues we  
should possess had the marble-carving   
art born of architectural decoration    
originated in ,greece1 and the art of   
clay and bronze flourished in ,christian
 and medival ,italy4 ,be this as it may1
 the accident of the surroundings--of   
the habits of life and thought which    
pressed on the artist1 and combined with
 the necessities of his material        
method--appears to have intensified the 
peculiarities organic in each of the two
 sculptures4 ,i say appears1 because we 
must bear in mind that the combination  
was merely fortuitous1 and guard against
 the habit of thinking that because a   
type is familiar it is therefore alone  
conceivable4  ,we all know all about the
 antique and the medival milieu4 ,it is 
useless to recapitulate the influence1  
on the one hand1 of antique             
civilisation1 with its southern outdoor 

existence1 its high training of the     
body1 its draped citizens1 naked        
athletes1 and half-clothed work-folk1   
its sensuous religion of earthly gods   
and muscular demigods2 or the influence1
 on the other hand1 of the more complex 
life of the ,middle ,ages1 essentially  
northern in type1 sedentary and         
manufacturing1 huddled in unventilated  
towns1 with its constant pre-occupation1
 even among the most sordid grossness1  
of the splendour of the soul1 the beauty
 of suffering1 the ignominy of the body1
 and the dangers of bodily prosperity4  
,of all this we have heard even too     
much1 thanks to the picturesqueness     
which has recommended the milieu of     
,monsieur ,taine to writers more mindful
 of literary effect than of the         
philosophy of art4 ,but there is another
 historical circumstance whose          
influence1 in differentiating ,greek    
sculpture from the sculpture of medival 
,italy1 can scarcely be overrated4 ,it  
is that1 whereas in ancient ,greece     

sculpture was the important1 fully      
developed art1 and painting merely its  
shadow2 in medival ,italy painting was  
the art which best answered the         
requirements of the civilisation1 the   
art struggling with the most important  
problems2 and that painting therefore   
reacted strongly upon sculpture4 ,greek 
painting was the shadow of ,greek       
sculpture in an almost literal sense3   
the figures on wall and base1 carefully 
modelled1 without texture1 symmetrically
 arranged alongside of each other       
regardless of pictorial pattern1 seem   
indeed to be projected on to the flat   
surface by the statues2 they are1 most  
certainly1 the shadow of modelled       
figures cast on the painter's mind4     
,the sculptor could learn nothing new   
from paintings where all that is proper 
to painting is ignored3--plane always   
preferred to line1 the constructive     
details1 perceptible only as projection1
 not as colour or value 7like the       
insertion of the leg and the thigh71    

marked by deep lines that look like     
tattoo marks2 and perspective almost    
entirely ignored1 at least till a late  
period4 ,it is necessary thus to examine
 ,greek painting#af in order to         
appreciate1 by comparison with this     
negative art1 the very positive         
influence of medival painting or medival
 sculpture4 ,the painting on a flat     
surface--fresco or panel--which became  
more and more the chief artistic        
expression of those times1 taught men to
 consider perspective2 and1 with        
perspective and its possibility of      
figures on many planes1 grouping3 the   
pattern that must arise from juxtaposed 
limbs and heads4 ,it taught them to     
perceive form no longer as projection or
 plane2 but as line and light and shade1
 as something whose charm lay mainly in 
the boundary curves1 the silhouette1 so 
much more important in one single1      
unchangeable position than where1 the   
eye wandering round a statue1 the only  
moderate interest of one point of view  

is compensated by the additional        
interest of another4 ,moreover1         
painting1 itself the product of a much  
greater interest in colour than         
,antiquity had known1 forced upon men's 
attention the important influence of    
colour upon form4 ,for1 although the    
human being1 if we abstract the element 
of colour1 if we do it over with white  
paint1 has indeed the broad1 somewhat   
vague form1 the indecision of lines     
which characterises antique sculpture2  
yet the human being as he really exists1
 with his coloured hair1 eyes1 and lips1
 his cheeks1 forehead1 and chin         
patterned with tint1 has a much greater 
sharpness1 precision1 contrast of form1 
due to the additional emphasis of the   
colour4 ,hence1 as pictorial perspective
 and composition undoubtedly inclined   
sculptors to seek greater complexities  
of relief and greater unity of point of 
view1 so the new importance of drawing  
and colouring suggested to them a new   
view of form4 ,a human being was no     

longer a mere arrangement of planes and 
of masses1 homogeneous in texture and   
colour4 ,he was made of different       
substances1 of hair1 skin over fat1     
muscle1 or bone1 skin smooth1 wrinkled1 
or stubbly1 and1 besides this1 he was   
painted different colours4 ,he had1     
moreover1 what the ,greeks had calmly   
whitewashed away1 or replaced by an     
immovable jewel or enamel3 that         
extraordinary and extraordinarily       
various thing called an ,eye4           
,footnote #af3 ,at all events1 ,greek   
painting preceding or contemporaneous   
with the great period of sculpture4     
,later painting was1 of course1 much    
more pictorial4  ,all these differences 
between the monochrome creature--colour 
abstracted--of the ,greeks and the      
mottled real human being1 the sculptors 
of the ,renaissance were led to perceive
 by their brothers the painters2 and    
having perceived1 they were dissatisfied
 at having to omit in their             
representation4 ,but how show that they 

too had seen them8  ,here return to our 
notice two other peculiarities which    
distinguish medival sculpture from      
antique3 first1 that medival sculpture1 
rarely called upon for free open-air    
figures1 was for ever producing         
architectural ornament1 seen at a given 
height and against a dark background2   
and indoor decoration seen under an     
unvarying and often defective light2 and
 secondly1 that medival sculpture was   
the handicraft of the subtle carver in  
delicate stone4  ,the sculpture which   
was an essential part of ,lombard and   
,gothic architecture required a         
treatment that should adapt it to its   
particular place and subordinate it to a
 given effect4 ,according to the height 
above the eye and the direction of the  
light1 certain details had to be        
exaggerated1 certain others suppressed2 
a sculptured window1 like those of      
,orsanmichele1 would not give the       
delightful pattern of black and white   
unless some surfaces were more raised   

than others1 some portions of figure or 
leafage allowed to sink into quiescence1
 others to start forward by means of the
 black rim of undercutting2 and a       
sepulchral monument1 raised thirty feet 
above the spectator's eye1 like those   
inside ,sta4 ,maria ,novella1 would     
present a mere intricate confusion      
unless the recumbent figure1 the canopy1
 and various accessories1 were such as  
to seem unnatural at the level of the   
eye4 ,thus1 the heraldic lions of one of
 these ,gothic tombs have the black     
cavity of the jaw cut by marble bars    
which are absolutely out of proportion  
to the rest of the creature's body1 and 
to the detail of the other features1 but
 render the showing of the teeth even at
 the other side of the transept4 ,again1
 in the more developed art of the       
fifteenth century1 ,rossellino's        
,cardinal of ,portugal has the offside  
of his face shelved upwards so as to    
catch the light1 because he is seen from
 below1 and the near side would         

otherwise be too prominent2 while the   
beautiful dead warrior1 by an unknown   
sculptor1 at ,ravenna has had a portion 
of his jaw and chin deliberately cut    
away1 because the spectator is intended 
to look down upon his recumbent figure4 
,if we take a cast of the ,cardinal's   
head and look down upon it1 or hang a   
cast of the dead warrior on the wall1   
the whole appearance alters2 the        
expression is almost reversed and the   
features are distorted4 ,on the other   
hand1 a cast from a real head1 placed on
 high like the ,cardinal's1 would become
 insignificant1 and laid at the height  
of a table1 like the dead warrior's1    
would look lumbering and tumid4 ,thus1  
again1 the head of ,donatello's ,poggio1
 which is visible and intelligible      
placed high up in the darkness of the   
,cathedral of ,florence1 looks as if it 
had been gashed and hacked with a blunt 
knife when seen in the cast at the usual
 height in an ordinary light4  ,now this
 subtle circumventing of distance1      

height1 and darkness2 this victory of   
pattern over place2 this reducing of    
light and shadow into tools for the     
sculptor1 mean1 as we see from the above
 examples1 sacrificing the reality to   
the appearance1 altering the proportions
 and planes so rigorously reproduced by 
the ,greeks1 mean sacrificing the sacred
 absolute form4 ,and such a habit of    
taking liberties with what can be       
measured by the hand1 in order to please
 the eye1 allowed the sculptors of the  
,renaissance to think of their model no 
longer as the homogeneous white man of  
the ,greeks1 but as a creature in whom  
structure was accentuated1 intensified1 
or contradicted by colour and texture4  
,furthermore1 these men of the fifteenth
 century possessed the cunning carving  
which could make stone vary in texture1 
in fibre1 and almost in colour4  ,a     
great many biographical details         
substantiate the evidence of statues and
 busts that the sculptors of the        
,renaissance carried on their business  

in a different manner from the ancient  
,greeks4 ,the great development in      
,antiquity of the art of casting bronze1
 carried on everywhere for the          
production of weapons and household     
furniture1 must have accustomed ,greek  
sculptors 7if we may call them by that  
name7 to limit their personal work to   
the figure modelled in clay4 ,and the   
great number of their works1 many       
tediously constructed of ivory and gold1
 shows clearly that they did not abandon
 this habit in case of marble statuary1 
but merely gave the finishing strokes to
 a copy of their clay model1 produced by
 workmen whose skill must have been     
fostered by the apparently thriving     
trade in marble copies of bronzes4  ,it 
was different in the ,renaissance4      
,vasari recommends1 as obviating certain
 miscalculations which frequently       
happened1 that sculptors should prepare 
large models by which to measure the    
capacities of their block of marble4    
,but these models1 described as made of 

a mixture of plaster1 size1 and cloth   
shavings over tow and hay1 could serve  
only for the rough proportions and      
attitude2 nor is there ever any allusion
 to any process of minute measurement1  
such as pointing1 by which detail could 
be transferred from the model to the    
stone4 ,most often we hear of small wax 
models which the sculptors enlarged     
directly in the stone4 ,vasari1 while   
exaggerating the skill of ,michelangelo 
in making his ,david out of a block     
mangled by another sculptor1 expresses  
no surprise at his having chopped the   
marble himself2 indeed1 the anecdote    
itself affords evidence of the          
commonness of such a practice1 since    
,agostino di ,duccio would not have     
spoilt the block if he had not cut into 
it rashly without previous comparison   
with a model4#ag ,we hear1 besides1 that
 ,jacopo della ,quercia spent twelve    
years over one of the gates of ,s4      
,petronio1 and that other sculptors     
carried out similar great works with the

 assistance of one man1 or with no      
assistance at all1--a proceeding which  
would have seemed the most frightful    
waste except in a time and country where
 half of the sculptors were originally  
stone-masons and the other half         
goldsmiths1 that is to say1 men         
accustomed to every stage1 coarse or    
subtle1 of their work4 ,the absence of  
replicas of ,renaissance sculpture1 so  
striking a contrast to the scores of    
repetitions of ,greek works1 proves1    
moreover1 that the actual execution in  
marble was considered an intrinsic part 
of the sculpture of the fifteenth       
century1 in the same way as the painting
 of a ,venetian master4 ,phidias might  
leave the carving of his statues to     
skilful workmen1 once he had modelled   
the clay1 even as the painters of the   
merely designing and linear schools1    
,perugino1 ,ghirlandaio1 or ,botticelli1
 might employ pupils to carry out their 
designs on panel or wall4 ,but in the   
same way as a ,titian is not a ,titian  

without a certain handling of the brush1
 so a ,donatello is not a ,donatello1 or
 a ,mino not a ,mino1 without a certain 
individual excellence in the cutting of 
the marble4    ,footnote #ag3 ,several  
,greek vases and coins show the sculptor
 modelling   his figure2 while in       
,renaissance designs1 from that of      
,nanni di ,banco   to a mediocre        
allegorical engraving in an early       
edition of ,vasari1 the   sculptor1 or  
the personified art of ,sculpture1 is   
actually working with   chisel and      
mallet4  ,these men brought1 therefore1 
to the cutting of marble a degree of    
skill and knowledge of which the        
ancients had no notion1 as they had no  
necessity4 ,in their hands the chisel   
was not merely a second modelling tool1 
moulding delicate planes1 uniting       
insensibly broad masses of projection   
and depression4 ,it was a pencil1 which1
 according as it was held1 could        
emphasise the forms in sharp hatchings  
or let them die away unnoticed in       

subdued1 imperceptible washes4 ,it was a
 brush which could give the texture and 
the values of the colour--a brush dipped
 in various tints of light and darkness1
 according as it poured into the marble 
the light and the shade1 and as it      
translated into polishings and rough    
hewings and granulations and every      
variety of cutting1 the texture of      
flesh1 of hair1 and of drapery2 of the  
blonde hair and flesh of children1 the  
coarse flesh and bristly hair of old    
men1 the draperies of wool1 of linen1   
and of brocade4 ,the sculptors of       
,antiquity took a beautiful human       
being--a youth in his perfect flower1   
with limbs trained by harmonious        
exercise and ripened by exposure to the 
air and sun--and1 correcting whatever   
was imperfect in his individual forms by
 their hourly experience of similar     
beauty1 they copied in clay as much as  
clay could give of his perfections3 the 
subtle proportions1 the majestic        
ampleness of masses1 the delicate finish

 of limbs1 the harmonious play of       
muscles1 the serene simplicity of look  
and gesture1 placing him in an attitude 
intelligible and graceful from the      
greatest possible distance and from the 
largest variety of points of view4 ,and 
they preserved this perfect piece of    
loveliness by handing it over to the    
faithful copyist in marble1 to the      
bronze1 which1 more faithful still1     
fills every minutest cavity left by the 
clay4 ,being beautiful in himself1 in   
all his proportions and details1 this   
man of bronze or marble was beautiful   
wherever he was placed and from         
wheresoever he was seen2 whether he     
appeared foreshortened on a temple      
front1 or face to face among the laurel 
trees1 whether shaded by a portico1 or  
shining in the blaze of the open street4
 ,his beauty must be judged and loved as
 we should judge and love the beauty of 
a real human being1 for he is the       
closest reproduction that art has given 
of beautiful reality placed in reality's

 real surroundings4 ,he is the          
embodiment of the strength and purity of
 youth1 untroubled by the moment1       
independent of place and of             
circumstance4  ,of such perfection1 born
 of the rarest meeting of happy         
circumstances1 ,renaissance sculpture   
knows nothing4 ,a lesser art1 for       
painting was then what sculpture had    
been in ,antiquity2 bound more or less  
closely to the service of architecture2 
surrounded by ill-grown1 untrained      
bodies2 distracted by ascetic feelings  
and scientific curiosities1 the         
sculpture of ,donatello and ,mino1 of   
,jacopo della ,quercia and ,desiderio da
 ,settignano1 of ,michelangelo himself1 
was one of those second artistic growths
 which use up the elements that have    
been neglected or rejected by the more  
fortunate and vigorous efflorescence    
which has preceded4 ,it failed in       
everything in which antique sculpture   
had succeeded2 it accomplished what     
,antiquity had left undone4 ,its sense  

of bodily beauty was rudimentary2 its   
knowledge of the nude alternately       
insufficient and pedantic2 the forms of 
,donatello's ,david and of ,benedetto's 
,st4 ,john are clumsy1 stunted1 and     
inharmonious2 even ,michelangelo's      
,bacchus is but a comely lout4 ,this    
sculpture has1 moreover1 a marvellous   
preference for ugly old men--gross1 or  
ascetically imbecile2 and for ill-grown 
striplings3 except the ,st4 ,george of  
,donatello1 whose body1 however1 is     
entirely encased in inflexible leather  
and steel1 it never gives us the        
perfection and pride of youth4 ,these   
things are obvious1 and set us against  
the art as a whole4 ,but see it when it 
does what ,antiquity never attempted2   
,antiquity which placed statues side by 
side in a gable1 balancing one another1 
but not welded into one pattern2 which  
made relief the mere repetition of one  
point of view of the round figure1 the  
shadow of the gable group2 which1 until 
its decline1 knew nothing of the pathos 

of old age1 of the grotesque            
exquisiteness of infancy1 of the        
endearing awkwardness of adolescence2   
which knew nothing of the texture of the
 skin1 the silkiness of the hair1 the   
colour of the eye4   ,,iii  ,let us see 
,renaissance sculpture in its real      
achievement4  ,here are a number of     
children by various sculptors of the    
fifteenth century4 ,this is the tiny    
baby whose little feet still project    
from a sort of gaiter of flesh1 whose   
little boneless legs cannot carry the   
fat little paunch1 the heavy big head4  
,note that its little skull is still    
soft1 like an apple1 under the thin     
floss hair4 ,its elder brother or sister
 is still vaguely contemplative of the  
world1 with eyes that easily grow sleepy
 in their blueness4 ,those a little     
older have learned already that the     
world is full of solemn people on whom  
to practise tricks2 their features have 
scarcely accentuated1 their hair has    
merely curled into loose rings1 but     

their eyes have come forward from below 
the forehead1 eyes and forehead working 
together already2 and there are great   
holes1 into which you may dig your      
thumb1 in the cheeks4 ,those of fourteen
 or fifteen have deplorably thin arms1  
and still such terrible calves2 and a   
stomach telling of childish gigantic    
meals2 but they have the pert1 humorous 
frankness of ,verrocchio's ,david1 who  
certainly flung a jest at ,goliath's    
unwieldy person together with his stone2
 or the delicate1 sentimental pretty    
woman's grace of ,donatello's ,st4 ,john
 of the ,louvre1 and ,benedetto da      
,maiano's3 they will soon be poring over
 the ,vita ,nuova and ,petrarch4 ,two   
other ,st4 ,johns--,i am speaking of    
,donatello's--have turned out           
differently4 ,one1 the first beard still
 doubtful round his mouth1 has already  
rushed madly away from earthly loves2   
his limbs are utterly wasted by fasting2
 except his legs1 which have become     
incredibly muscular from continual      

walking2 he has begun to be troubled by 
voices in the wilderness--whether of    
angels or of demons--and he flies along1
 his eyes fixed on his scroll1 and with 
them fixing his mind on unearthly       
things2 he will very likely go mad1 this
 tempted saint of twenty-one4 ,here he  
is again1 beard and hair matted1 almost 
a wild man of the woods1 but with the   
gravity and self-possession of a        
preacher2 he has come out of the        
wilderness1 overcome all temptations1   
his fanaticism is now militant and      
conquering4 ,this is certainly not the  
same man1 but perhaps one of his        
listeners1 this old ,king ,david of     
,donatello--a man at no time            
intelligent1 whose dome-shaped head has 
taken back1 with the thin white floss   
hair that recalls infancy1 an infantine 
lack of solidity2 whose mouth is        
drooping already1 perhaps after a first 
experience of paralysis1 and his eyes   
getting vague in look2 but who1 in this 
intellectual and physical decay1 seems  

to have become only the more full of    
gentleness and sweetness2 misnamed      
,david1 a ,job become reconciled to his 
fate by becoming indifferent to himself1
 an ,ancient ,mariner who has seen the  
water-snakes and blessed them and been  
filled with blessing4  ,these are all   
statues or busts intended for a given   
niche or bracket1 a given portico or    
window1 but in a measure free sculpture4
 ,let us now look at what is already    
decoration4 ,donatello's ,annunciation1 
the big coarse relief in friable grey   
stone 7incapable of a sharp line71      
picked out with delicate gilding2 no    
fluttering or fainting1 the angel and   
the ,virgin grave1 decorous1 like the   
neighbouring pilasters4 ,again1 his     
organ-loft of flat relief1 with         
granulated groundwork3 the flattened    
groups of dancing children making1 with 
deep1 wide shadows beneath their        
upraised1 linked arms1 a sort of human  
trellis-work of black and white4 ,mino's
 ,madonna at ,fiesole3 the relief turned

 and cut so as to look out of the chapel
 into the church1 so that the ,virgin's 
head1 receiving the light like a glory  
on the pure1 polished forehead1 casts a 
nimbus of shadow round itself1 while the
 saints are sucked into the background1 
their accessories only1 staff and       
gridiron1 allowed to assert themselves  
by a sharp shadow2 a marvellous vision  
of white heavenly roses1 their pointed  
buds and sharp spines flourishing on    
martyrs' blood and incense1 grown into  
the close lips and long eyes1 the       
virginal body and thin hands of ,mary4  
,from these reliefs we come to the      
compositions1 group inside group1 all   
shelving into portico and forest vista1 
of the pulpit of ,sta4 ,croce1 the      
perspective bevelling it into           
concavities1 like those of panelling2   
the heads and projecting shoulders      
lightly marked as some carved knob or   
ornament2 to the magnificent            
compositions in light and shade1 all    
balancing and harmonising each other1   

and framed round by garlands of immortal
 blossom and fruit1 of ,ghiberti's      
gates4  ,nor is this all4 ,the sculpture
 of the ,renaissance1 not satisfied with
 having portrayed the real human being  
made of flesh and blood1 of bone and    
skin1 dark-eyed or flaxen-haired1       
embodied in the marble the impalpable   
forms of dreams4 ,its latest1 greatest1 
works are those sepulchres of           
,michelangelo1 whose pinnacle enthrones 
strange ghosts of warriors1 and whose   
steep sides are the unquiet couch of    
divinities hewn1 you would say1 out of  
darkness and the light that is as       
darkness4     ,a ,,seeker ,,of ,,pagan  
,,perfection  ,,being ,,the ,,life ,,of 
,,domenico ,,neroni1 ,,pictor           
,,sacrilegus   ,every time1 of late     
years1 of my being once more in ,rome1  
,i have been subject to a peculiar      
mental obsession3 retracing my steps1 if
 not materially1 in fancy at least1 to  
such parts of the city as bear witness  
to the strange meeting of centuries1    

where the ,middle ,ages have altered to 
their purposes1 or filled with their    
significance1 the ruined remains of     
,antiquity4  ,such places are scarcer   
than one might have expected1 and for   
that reason perhaps more impressive1    
more fragmentary and enigmatic4 ,there  
are the colossal columns--great trickles
 and flakes of black etching as with    
acid their marble--of the temple of     
,mars ,ultor1 with that ,tuscan palace  
of ,torre della ,milizia rising from    
among them4 ,there is1 inside ,ara      
,coeli--itself commemorating the legend 
of ,augustus and the ,sibyl--the tomb of
 ,dominus ,pandulphus ,sabelli1 its     
borrowed vine-garlands and satyrs and   
,cupids surmounted by mosaic crosses and
 ,gothic inscriptions2 and outside the  
same church1 on a ground of green and   
gold1 a ,mother of ,god looking down    
from among gurgoyles and escutcheons on 
to the marble river-god of the yard of  
the ,capitol below4 ,then also1 where   
pines and laurels still root in the     

unrifled tombs1 the skeleton feudal     
fortress1 gutted as by an earthquake1   
alongside of the tower of ,ccilia       
,metella4 ,these were the places to     
which my thoughts were for ever         
recurring2 to them1 and to nameless     
other spots1 the street-corner1 for     
instance1 where an ,ionic pillar1 with  
beaded and full-horned capital1 is      
walled into the side of an insignificant
 modern house4 ,i know not whether1 in  
consequence of this straining to see the
 meeting-point of ,antiquity and the    
,middle ,ages 7like the fancy1 sometimes
 experienced1 to reach the confluence of
 rivers71 or rather as a cause thereof1 
but a certain story has long lurked in  
the corners of my mind4 ,twenty years   
have passed since first ,i was aware of 
its presence1 and it has undergone many 
changes4 ,it is presumably a piece of my
 inventing1 for ,i have neither read it 
nor heard it related4 ,but by this time 
it has acquired a certain traditional   
veracity in my eyes1 and ,i give to the 

reader rather as historical fact than as
 fiction the study which ,i have always 
called to myself3 ,pictor ,sacrilegus4  
,i  ,domenico1 the son of ,luca ,neroni1
 painter1 sculptor1 goldsmith1 and      
engraver1 about whom1 owing either to   
the scarcity of his works or the scandal
 of his end1 ,vasari has but a few words
 in another man's biography1 must have  
been born shortly before or shortly     
after the year #adej1 a contemporary of 
,perugino1 of ,ghirlandaio1 of          
,filippino ,lippi1 and of ,signorelli1  
by all of whom he was influenced at     
various moments1 and whom he influenced 
by turns4  ,he was born and bred in the 
,etruscan town of ,volterra1 of a family
 which for generations had exercised the
 art of the goldsmith1 stimulated1      
perhaps1 by the sight of ornaments      
discovered in ,etruscan tombs1 and      
carrying on1 peradventure1 some of the  
,etruscan traditions of two thousand    
years before4 ,the mountain city1       
situate on the verge of the malarious   

seaboard of ,southern ,tuscany1 is      
reached from one side through windings  
of barren valleys1 where the dried-up   
brooks are fringed1 instead of reed1    
with the grey1 sand-loving tamarisk2 and
 from the other side1 across a          
high-lying moorland of stunted heather  
and sere grass1 whence the larks rise up
 scared by only a flock of sheep or a   
mare and her foal1 and you journey for  
miles without meeting a house or a clump
 of cypresses4 ,in front1 with the white
 road zigzagging along their crests1 is 
a wilderness of barren1 livid hillocks1 
separated by huge fissures and crevassed
 by huge cracks1 with here and there    
separate rocks1 projecting like ,druidic
 stones from the valley of gaping       
ravines2 and beyond them all a higher   
mountain1 among whose rocks and ilexes  
you doubtfully distinguish the walls and
 towers of the ,etruscan city4 ,a mass  
of ,cyclopean wall and great black      
houses1 grim with stone brackets and    
iron hooks and stanchions1 all for      

defence and barricade1 ,volterra looks  
down into the deep valleys1 like the    
vague heraldic animal1 black and        
bristly1 which peers from the high tower
 of the municipal palace4 ,one wonders  
how this could ever have been a city of 
the fat1 voluptuous ,etruscans1 whose   
images lie propped up and wide-eyed on  
their stone coffin-lids4 ,the long wars 
of old ,italic times1 in which ,etruria 
fell before ,rome1 must have burned and 
destroyed1 as one would think1 the land 
as well as the inhabitants1 leaving but 
grey cinders and blackened stone behind4
 ,siena and ,florence ruined ,volterra  
once more in the ,middle ,ages1         
isolating it near the pestilential      
,maremma and checking its growth outward
 and inward4 ,the cathedral1 the pride  
of a medival commonwealth1 is still a   
mean and unfinished building of the     
twelfth century4 ,there is no native    
art1 of any importance1 of a later      
period2 what the town possesses has come
 from other parts1 the altar-pieces by  

,matteo di ,giovanni and ,signorelli1   
for instance1 and the marble candelabra1
 carried by angels1 of the school of    
,mino da ,fiesole4  ,in this remote and 
stagnant town1 the artistic training of 
,domenico ,neroni was necessarily       
imperfect and limited throughout his    
boyhood to the paternal goldsmith's     
craft4 ,indeed1 it seems likely that    
some peculiarities of his subsequent    
life as an artist1 his laboriousness    
disproportionate to all results1 his    
persistent harping on unimportant       
detail1 and his exclusive interest in   
line and curve1 were due not merely to  
an unhappy and laborious temperament1   
but also to the long habit of an art    
full of manual skill and cunning        
tradition1 which presented the eye with 
ingenious patterns1 but rarely          
attempted1 save in a few church         
ornaments1 more of the domain of        
sculpture1 to tell a story or express a 
feeling4  ,besides this influence of his
 original trade1 we find in ,domenico   

,neroni's work the influence of his     
early surroundings4 ,his native country 
is such as must delight1 or help to     
form1 a painter of pale anatomies4 ,the 
painters of ,southern ,tuscany loved as 
a background the arid and mountainous   
country of their birth4 ,taddeo di      
,bartolo placed the ,death of the       
,virgin among the curious undulations of
 pale clay and sandy marl that stretch  
to the southernmost gates of ,siena2    
,signorelli was amused and fascinated by
 the odd cliffs and overhanging crags1  
unnatural and grotesque like some       
,druidic monument1 of the valleys of the
 ,paglia and the ,chiana2 and ,pier     
della ,francesca has left1 in the       
allegorical triumphs of ,frederick of   
,urbino and his duchess1 studies most   
exquisite and correct1 of what meets the
 traveller's eyes on the watersheds of  
the central ,apennine1 sharp-toothed    
lines of mountain peaks pale against the
 sky1 dim distant whiteness of sea1 and 
valleys and roads and torrents twisting 

intricately as on a map4 ,the country   
about ,volterra1 revealing itself with  
rosy lividness at dawn1 with delicate   
periwinkle blue at sunset1 through an   
open city gate or a gap between the tall
 black houses1 helped to make ,neroni a 
lover of muscle and sinew1 of the       
strength and suppleness of movement1 of 
the osseous structure divined within the
 limbs2 and made him shrink all his life
 long1 not merely from drapery or       
costume that blunted the lines of the   
body1 but from any warmth and depth of  
colour2 till the figures stood out like 
ghosts1 or people in faded tapestries1  
from the pale lilacs and greys and      
washed out cinnamons of his backgrounds4
 ,for the bold peaks and swelling       
mountains of the valleys of the ,arno   
and the ,tiber1 and the depths of colour
 among vegetation and rivers1 seemed    
crude and emphatic to a man who carried 
in his memory those bosses of hill1     
pearly where the waters have washed the 
sides1 pale golden buff where a little  

sere grass covers the rounded top2 those
 great cracks and chasms1 with the white
 road snaking along the narrow          
table-land and the wide valleys2 and the
 ripple of far-off mountain chains1     
strong and restrained in curves1        
exquisite in tints1 like the dry white  
and purpled hemlock1 and the dusty lilac
 scabius1 which seem to flower alone in 
that arid and melancholy and beautiful  
country4  ,colour1 wrote ,domenico      
,neroni1 among a mass of notes on his   
art1 measurements1 and calculations1 is 
the enemy of noble art4 ,it is the enemy
 of all precise and perfect form1 since 
where colour exists form can be seen    
only as juxtaposition of colour4 ,for   
this reason it has pleased the ,creator 
to lend colour only to the inanimate    
world1 as to senseless vegetables and   
plants1 and to the lower kinds of living
 creatures1 as birds1 fishes1 and       
reptiles2 whereas nobler creatures1 as  
lions1 tigers1 horses1 cattle1 stags1   
and unicorns1 are robed in white or dull

 skins1 the noblest breeds1 indeed1 both
 of horses1 as those of the ,soldans of 
,egypt and ,numidia1 and of oxen1 as    
those of the valleys of the ,clitumnus  
and ,chiana1 being white2 whence1       
indeed1 the poet ,virgil has said that  
such latter are fittest for sacrifice to
 the immortal gods2 'hinc albi1         
,clitumne1 greges1' and what follows4   
,and man1 the masterpiece of creation1  
is white2 and only in the less noble    
portions of his body1 which have no     
sensitiveness and no shape 7being1      
indeed1 vegetative and deciduous71 as   
hair and beard1 partaking of colour4    
,wherefore the ancient ,romans and      
,greeks1 portraying their gods1 chose   
white marble for material1 and not gaudy
 porphyry or jasper1 and portrayed them 
naked4 ,whence certain moderns1 calling 
themselves painters1 who muffle our     
,lord and the ,holy ,apostles in        
many-coloured garments1 thinking thereby
 to do a seemly and honourable thing1   
but really proceeding basely like       

tailors1 might take a lesson if they    
could4  ,the quotation from ,virgil1 and
 the allusion to the statues of the     
immortal gods1 shows that ,neroni must  
have written these lines in the later   
part of his career1 when already under  
the influence of that humanist          
,filarete1 who played so important a    
part in his life1 and when possessed    
already by those notions which brought  
him to so strange and fearful an end4   
,but from his earliest years he sought  
for form1 despising other things4 ,he   
passed with contempt through a six      
months' apprenticeship at ,perugia1     
railing at the great factory of         
devotional art established there by     
,perugino1 of whom1 with his rows of    
splay-footed saints and spindle-shanked 
heroes1 he spoke with the same sweeping 
contempt as later ,michelangelo4 ,at    
,siena1 which he described 7much as its 
earlier artists painted it7 as a town of
 pink toy-houses and scarlet toy-towers1
 he found nothing to admire save the    

marble fountain of ,jacopo della        
,quercia1 for the antique group of the  
,three ,graces1 later to be drawn by the
 young ,raphael1 had not yet been given 
to the cathedral by the nephew of ,pius 
,,ii4 ,the sight of these noble reliefs1
 particularly of the one representing   
,adam and ,eve driven out of ,paradise1 
with their strong and well-understood   
nudities1 determined him to exchange    
painting for sculpture1 and made him    
hasten to ,florence to see the works of 
,donatello and of ,ghiberti4  ,domenico 
,neroni must have spent several years of
 his life--between #adgj and #adhj--;in 
,florence1 but little of his work has   
remained in that city1--little1 at      
least1 that we can identify with        
certainty4 ,for taking service1 as he   
did1 with the ,pollaiolos1 ,verrocchio1 
,nanni di ,banco1 and even with         
,filippino and ,botticelli1 wherever his
 inquisitive mind could learn1 or his   
restless1 fastidious1 laborious talent  
gain him bread1 it is presumable that   

much of his work might be discovered    
alongside that of his masters1 in the   
collective productions of the various   
workshops4 ,it is possible thus that he 
had a hand in much metal and relief work
 of the ,pollaiolos1 and perhaps even in
 the embroidering and tapestries of     
which they were undertakers2 also in    
certain ornaments1 friezes of ,cupids   
and dolphins1 and exquisite shell and   
acanthus carving of the monuments of    
,santa ,croce2 and it may be surmised   
that he occasionally assisted           
,botticelli in his perspective and      
anatomy1 since that master took him to  
,rome when commissioned to paint in the 
chapel of ,pope ,sixtus4 ,indeed1 in    
certain little-known studies for        
,botticelli's ,birth of ,venus and      
,calumny of ,apelles one may discover1  
in the strong sweep of the outline1 in  
the solid fashion in which the figures  
are planted on their feet--all          
peculiarities which disappear in the    
painted pictures1 where grace of motion 

and exquisitive research take the place 
of solid draughtsman-ship--the hand of  
the artist whom the restless desire to  
confront ever new problems alone        
prevented from attaining a place among  
the great men of his time4  ,for there  
was in ,domenico ,neroni1 from the very 
outset of his career1 a curiosity after 
the hidden1 a passion for the           
unattainable1 which kept him1 with      
greater power than many of his          
contemporaries1 and vastly greater      
science1 a mere student throughout his  
lifetime4 ,he resembled in some respects
 his great contemporary ,leonardo1 but  
while the eager inquisitiveness of the  
latter was tempered by a singular power 
of universal enjoyment1 a love of luxury
 and joyousness in every form1 the      
intellectual activity of ,neroni was    
exasperated into a kind of unhappy mania
 by the fact that its satisfaction was  
the only happiness that he could        
conceive4 ,he would never have          
understood1 or understanding would have 

detested1 the luxurious dilettante      
spirit which made ,leonardo prefer      
painting to sculpture1 because whereas  
the sculptor is covered with a mud of   
marble dust1 and works in a place       
disorderly with chips and rubbish1 the  
painter sits at his easel1 well dressed 
and at ease1 in a clean house adorned   
with pictures1 his work accompanied by  
music or the reading of delightful      
books1 which1 untroubled by the sound of
 hammering and other noises1 may be     
listened to with very great pleasure4   
,the workshop of ,neroni1 when he had   
one of his own1 was full of cobwebs and 
dust1 littered with the remains of      
frugal and unsavoury meals1 and         
resolutely closed to the rich and noble 
persons in whose company ,leonardo      
delighted4 ,and if ,neroni1 in his      
many-sided activity1 eventually put     
aside sculpture for painting1 it was    
merely because1 as he was wont to say1 a
 figure must needs look real when it is 
solid and you can walk round it2 but to 

make men and women rise out of a flat   
canvas or plastered wall1 and stand and 
move as if alive1 is truly the work of a
 god4  ,men and women1 said ,neroni2 and
 he should have added men and women     
nude4 ,for the studies which he made of 
the anatomy of horses and dogs were     
destined merely to shed light on the    
construction of human creatures2 and his
 elaborate and exquisite drawings of    
undulating hills and sinuous rivers1    
nay1 of growths of myrtle and clumps of 
daffodils1 were intended as practice    
towards drawing the more subtle lines   
and curves of man's body4 ,and as to    
clothes1 he could not understand that   
great anatomists like ,signorelli should
 huddle their figures quite willingly in
 immense cloaks and gowns2 still less   
how exquisite draughtsmen like his      
friend ,botticelli 7who had the sense of
 line like no other man since ,frate    
,lippo1 although his people were oddly  
out of joint7 could take pleasure in    
putting half-a-dozen veils atop of each 

other1 and then tying them all into     
bunches and bunches with innumerable    
bits of tape6 ,as to himself1 he        
invariably worked out every detail of   
the nude1 in the vain hope that the     
priests and monks for whom he worked    
would allow at least half of those      
beautiful anatomies to remain visible2  
and when1 with infinite difficulties and
 bad language1 he gradually gave in to  
the necessity of some sort of raiment1  
it was of such a nature--the hose and   
jerkins of the men-at-arms like a second
 skin1 the draperies of the womankind as
 clinging as if they had been picked out
 of the river1 that a great many pious  
people absolutely declined to pay the   
agreed on sum for paintings more suited 
to ,pagan than to ,christian countries2 
and indeed ,fra ,girolamo ,savonarola   
included much work of ,domenico's in his
 very finest burnings4  ,such           
familiarity with nude form was not      
easily attained in the fifteenth        
century4 ,medival civilisation gave no  

opportunities for seeing naked or       
half-naked people moving freely as in   
the antique palstra2 and there had yet  
been discovered too few antique marbles 
for the empiric knowledge of ancient    
sculptors to be empirically inherited by
 modern ones4 ,observation of the hired 
model1 utterly insufficient in itself1  
required to be supplemented by a        
thorough science of the body's          
mechanism4 ,but physiology and surgery  
were still in their infancy2 and artists
 could not1 as they could after the     
teachings of ,vesalius1 ,fallopius1 and 
,cesalpinus1 avail themselves of the    
science accumulated for medical         
purposes4 ,verrocchio and the           
,pollaiolos most certainly1 and         
,donatello almost without a doubt1      
practised dissection as a part of their 
business1 as ,michelangelo1 with the    
advantage of twenty years of their      
researches behind him1 practised it     
passionately in his turn4 ,of all the   
men of his day1 ,domenico ,neroni1      

however1 was the most fervent anatomist4
 ,he ran every risk of contagion and of 
punishment in order to procure corpses  
from the hospital and the gibbet4 ,he   
undermined his constitution by breathing
 and handling corruption1 and when his  
friends implored him to spare his       
health1 he would answer1 although unable
 to touch food for sickness1 by         
paraphrasing the famous words of ,paolo 
,uccello1 and exclaiming from among his 
grisly and abominable properties1 ,ah6  
how sweet a thing is not anatomy6       
,there was nothing1 he said--for he     
spoke willingly to any one who          
questioned him on these subjects--more  
beautiful than the manner in which human
 beings are built1 or indeed living     
creatures of any kind2 for1 in the      
scarcity of corpses and skeletons1 he   
would pick up on his walks the bones of 
sheep that had died on the hill-sides1  
or those of horses and mules furbished  
up by the scavenger dogs of the         
river-edge4 ,it was marvellous to listen

 to him when he was in the vein4 ,he sat
 handling horrible remains and talking  
about them like a lover about his       
mistress or a preacher about ,god2      
indeed1 bones1 muscles1 and tendons were
 mistress and god all in one to this    
fanatical lover of human form4 ,he would
 insist on the loveliness of line of the
 scapula1 finding in the sweep of the   
acromion ridge a fanciful resemblance to
 the pinion1 and in the angular shape of
 the coracoid process to the neck and   
head of a raven in full flight4         
,following with his finger the          
triangular outline of the bone1 he went 
on to explain how its freedom of        
movement is due to its singular         
independence2 laid loosely on the flat  
muscles behind the upper ribs1 it moves 
with absolute freedom1 backwards and    
forwards1 up and down1 unconnected with 
any other bone1 till1 turning the corner
 of the shoulder1 it is hinged rather   
than tied to the collar-bone2 the       
collar-bone itself free to move upwards 

from its articulation in the sternum4   
,and then talk of the great works of    
man6 ,talk of ,brunellesco and his      
cupola1 of the engineers of the ,duke of
 ,calabria6 ,look at the human arm3 what
 engineer would have dared to fasten    
anything to such a movable base as that8
 ,yet an arm can swing round like a     
windmill1 and lift weights like the     
stoutest crane without being wrenched   
out of its sockets1 because the muscles 
act as pulleys in four different        
directions4 ,and see1 under the big     
deltoid1 which fits round the shoulder  
like an epaulette and pulls the arm up1 
is the scapular group1 things like      
tidily sorted skeins1 thick on the      
shoulder-blades1 diminished to a tendon 
string at their insertion in the arm2   
their business is to pull the arm back1 
in opposition to the big pectoral muscle
 which pulls it forwards4 ,here you have
 your arm working up1 backwards or      
forwards2 but how about pulling it down8
 ,an exquisite little arrangement       

settles that4 ,instead of being inserted
 with the rest on the outside of the    
arm-bone1 the lowest muscle takes       
another road1 and is inserted in the    
under part of the bone1 in company with 
the great latissimus dorsi1 and these   
tightening while the deltoid slackens1  
pull the arm down4 ,no other arrangement
 could have done it with so little bulk2
 and an additional muscle on the        
under-arm or the ribs would have spoilt 
the figure of ,apollo himself4  ,among  
the paintings of contemporary artists1  
the one which at that time afforded     
,domenico the most unmingled            
satisfaction was ,pollaiolo's tiny panel
 of ,hercules and the ,hydra4 ,there6   
,you might cover it with the palm of    
your hand2 but in that hand you would be
 holding the concentrated strength and  
valour of the world1 the true son of    
,jove1 the most beautiful muscles that  
ever were seen6 ,at least the most      
beautiful save in the statues of        
,donatello2 for1 of course1 ,donato was 

the greatest craftsman that had ever    
lived2 and ,domenico spoke of him as1 in
 ,vasari's day1 men were to speak of    
,michelangelo4  ,for ,i ask you1 who    
save an angel in human shape could have 
modelled that ,david1 so young and      
triumphant and modest1 treading on      
,goliath's head1 with toes just slightly
 turned downwards1 and those sandals1 of
 truly divine workmanship8 ,and that    
,st4 ,john in the ,wilderness--how      
beautiful are not his ribs1 showing     
under the wasted pectoral muscles2 and  
how one sees that the radius rolls      
across the ulna in the forearm2 surely  
one's heart1 rather than the statue1    
must be made of stone if one can        
contemplate without rapture the         
exquisite rendering of the texture where
 the shin-bone stands out from the      
muscles of the leg4 ,such must have been
 the works of those famous ,romans and  
,greeks1 ,phidias and ,praxiteles4      
,such were the notions of ,domenico of  
,volterra in the earlier part of his    

career4 ,for a change came gradually    
upon him after his first visit to ,rome1
 whither1 about #adhj1 he accompanied   
,botticelli1 ,rosselli1 and             
,ghirlandaio1 whom ,his ,beatitude ,pope
 ,sixtus had sent for to decorate the   
new chapel of the palace4   ,,ii  ,we   
must not be deluded1 like ,domenico     
,neroni during his ,florentine days1    
into the easy mistake of considering    
mere realism as the veritable aim of the
 art of his days4 ,deep in the life of  
that art1 and struggling for ever       
through whatever passion for scientific 
accuracy1 technical skill1 or pathetic  
expression1 is the sense of line and    
proportion1 the desire for pattern1     
growing steadily till its triumph under 
,michelangelo and ,raphael4  ,this      
reveals itself earliest in architecture4
 ,the men of the fifteenth century had  
lost all sense of the logic of          
construction4 ,columns1 architraves1    
friezes1 and the various categories of  
actual stone and brick work1 occurred to

 them merely as so much line and curve1 
applicable to the surface of their      
buildings1 with not more reference to   
their architecture than a fresco or an  
arras4 ,the ,pazzi ,chapel1 for         
instance1 is one agglomeration of       
architectural members which perform no  
architectural function2 but1 taken as a 
piece of surface decoration1 say as a   
stencilling1 what could be more         
harmonious8 ,or take ,alberti's famous  
church at ,rimini2 it is but a great    
piece of architectural veneering1       
nothing that meets the eye doing any    
real constructive duty1 its exquisite   
decoration no more closely connected    
with the building than the strips of    
damask and yards of gold braid used in  
other places on holidays4 ,as the       
fifteenth century treats the            
architectural detail of ,grco-,roman    
art1 so likewise does it proceed with   
its sculptured ornament2 all meaning    
vanishes before the absorbing interest  
in pattern4 ,for there is in antique    

architectural ornament a much larger    
proportion of significance than can     
strike us at first4 ,thus the garlands  
of ivy and fruit had actually hung round
 the tomb before being carved on its    
sides2 before ornamenting its corners   
the rams' heads and skulls of oxen had  
lain for centuries on the altar4 ,the   
medallions of nymphs1 centaurs1 tritons1
 which to us are so meaningless and     
irrelevant1 had a reference either to   
the divinity or to the worshippers2 and 
there is probably almost as much        
spontaneous symbolism in the little     
cinerary box in the ,capitol 7of a      
person called ,felix71 with its         
variously employed genii1 making music1 
carrying lanterns and torches1 burning  
or extinguished under a trellis hung    
with tragic masks1 as in any ,gothic    
tomb with angels drawing the curtains of
 the deathbed4 ,there has been1 with the
 change of religion1 an interruption in 
the symbolic tradition2 yet1 though we  
no longer interpret with readiness this 

dead language of paganism1 we feel1 if  
we are the least attentive1 that it     
contains a real meaning4 ,we feel that  
the sculptors cared not merely for the  
representation1 but also for the object 
represented4 ,these things were dear to 
them1 a part of their life1 their       
worship1 their love2 and they put as    
much observation into their work as any 
,gothic sculptor1 and often as much     
fancy and humour 7though both more      
beautiful71 as one may judge1 with      
plenty of comparison at hand1 by a      
certain antique altar in ,siena         
,cathedral1 none of whose ,gothic       
animals come up to the wonderful        
half-human rams' heads and bored1 cross 
griffins of this forlorn fragment of    
paganism4 ,the significance of classic  
ornament the men of the fifteenth       
century straightway overlooked4 ,they   
laid hold of it as merely so much form1 
joining sirens1 griffins1 garlands1     
rams' heads1 victories1 without a       
suspicion that they might mean or       

suggest anything4 ,they do1 in fact1    
mean nothing1 in most ,florentine work1 
besides exquisite pattern2 in the less  
subtle atmosphere of ,venice they reach 
that frank senselessness which has moved
 the wrath of ,ruskin4 ,but what a charm
 have not even those foolish monuments  
of doges and admirals1 tier upon tier of
 triumphal arch1 of delicately flowered 
column and scalloped niche1 and then    
rows of dainty warriors and virtues2 how
 full of meaning to the eye and spirit  
is not this art so meaningless to the   
literary mind6  ,of course the painting 
of that age never became an art of mere 
pattern like the architecture4 ,the     
whole life and thought of the time was  
poured into it2 and the art itself      
developed in its upward movement a      
number of scientific                    
interests--perspective1 anatomy1        
expression--which counteracted that     
tendency to seek for mere beauty of     
arrangement and detail4 ,yet the        
perfection of ,renaissance art never    

lies in any realism in our modern sense1
 still less in such suggestiveness as   
belongs to our literary age2 and its    
triumph is when ,raphael can vary and   
co-ordinate the greatest number of      
heads1 of hands1 feet1 and groups1 as in
 the ,school of ,athens1 the ,parnassus1
 the marvellous little ,bible histories 
of the ,loggie2 above all1 in that      
,vision of ,ezekiel1 which is the very  
triumph of compact and harmonious       
composition2 when ,michelangelo can tie 
human beings into the finest knots1     
twist them into the most shapely        
brackets1 frameworks1 and key-stones4   
,even throughout the period of utmost   
realism1 while art was struggling with  
absorbing problems1 men never dreamed of
 such realism as ours4 ,they never      
painted a corner of nature at random1   
merely for the sake of veracity2 they   
never modelled a modern man or woman in 
their real everyday dress and at their  
real everyday business4 ,in the midst of
 everything composition ruled supreme1  

and each object must needs find its     
echo1 be worked into a scheme of lines1 
or1 with the ,venetians1 of             
symmetrically arranged colours4 ,there  
is an anatomical engraving by ,antonio  
,pollaiolo1 one of the strongest        
realists of his time1 which sums up the 
tendencies of fifteenth-century art4 ,it
 is a combat of twelve naked men1       
extraordinarily hideous and in hideous  
attitudes1 but they are so arranged that
 their ungainly and flayed-looking limbs
 form with the background of gigantic   
ivy tendrils an intricate and beautiful 
pattern1 such as we find in ,morris's   
paper and stuffs4  ,this hankering after
 pattern1 this desire for beauty as     
such1 became manifest in ,domenico      
,neroni after his first sojourn in      
,rome4  ,the ,roman basilicas1 with     
their stately rows of columns1          
,corinthian and ,ionic1 taken from some 
former temple1 and their sunken floor1  
solemn with ,byzantine patterns of      
porphyry and serpentine1 had impressed  

with their simplicity and harmony the   
mind of this ,florentine1 surrounded    
hitherto by the intricacies of ,gothic  
buildings4 ,they had formed the link to 
those fragments of ancient architecture1
 more intact but also more hidden than  
in our days1 whose dignity of proportion
 and grace of detail--vast rosetted     
arches and slender rows of fluted       
pillars--our modern and ,hellenicised   
taste has treated with too ready        
contempt4 ,for this ,vitruvian art1     
unoriginal and bungling in the eyes of  
our purists1 was yet full of the        
serenity1 the ampleness which the       
,middle ,ages lacked1 and affected the  
men of the fifteenth century much like a
 passage of ,virgil after a canto of    
,dante4 ,it formed the fit setting for  
those remains of antique sculpture which
 were then gradually beginning to be    
drawn from the earth4 ,of such statues  
and reliefs--which the men of the       
,renaissance regarded as the work rather
 of ancient ,rome than of ,greece--a    

certain amount was beginning to be      
carried all over ,italy1 and notably to 
the houses of the rich ,florentine      
merchants1 who incrusted their staircase
 walls with inscriptions and carvings1  
and set statues and sarcophagi under the
 columns of their courtyards4 ,but such 
sculpture was chosen rather for its     
portable character than its excellence2 
and although single busts and slabs were
 diligently studied by ,florentine      
artists1 there could not have existed in
 ,florence a number of antiques         
sufficient to impress the ideal of      
ancient art upon men surrounded on all  
sides by the works of medieval painters 
and sculptors4  ,to the various sights  
of ,rome must be due that sudden        
enlarging of style1 that kind of new    
classicism1 which distinguishes the work
 of fifteenth-century masters after     
their visit to the ,eternal ,city1      
enabling ,ghirlandaio1 ,signorelli1     
,perugino1 and ,botticelli to make the  
,sixtine ,chapel1 and even the finical  

,pinturicchio1 the ,vatican library1    
into centres of fresh influence for     
harmony and beauty4  ,the result upon   
,domenico ,neroni was a momentary       
confusion in all his artistic           
conceptions4 ,too much of a seeker for  
new things1 for secret and complicated  
knowledge1 to undergo a mere widening of
 style like his more gifted or more     
placid contemporaries1 he fell foul of  
his previous work and his previous      
masters1 without finding a new line or  
new ideals4 ,the frescoes of ,castagno1 
the little panels of the ,pollaiolos1   
nay1 even the works of ,donatello1 were 
no longer what they had seemed before   
his ,roman journey1 and even what he had
 remembered them in ,rome2 for it is    
with more noble things1 even as with the
 rooms which we inhabit1 which strike us
 as small and dingy only on returning   
from larger and better lighted ones4    
,it is to this period of incipient but  
ill-understood classicism that belongs  
the only work of ,domenico ,neroni--at  

least the only work still extant        
nowadays--which possesses1 over and     
above its artistic or scientific merit1 
that indefinable quality which we must  
simply call charm2 to this time1 with   
the one exception of the famous woodcuts
 done for ,filarete4 ,domenico began    
about this time1 and probably under the 
stress of necessity1 to make            
frontispieces for the books with which  
,florentine printers were rapidly       
superseding the manuscripts of twenty   
years before3 collections of sermons1 of
 sonnets1 lives of saints1 editions of  
,virgil and ,terence1 quaint versified  
encyclopdias1 and even books on medicine
 and astrology4 ,from these little      
woodcuts1 groups of saints round the    
,cross1 with ,giotto's tower and        
,brunellesco's dome in the distance1    
pictures of ,fathers of the ,church or  
ancient poets seated at desks in neatly 
panelled closets--always with their     
globes1 books1 and pot of lilies1 and a 
vista of cloisters2 or battles between  

chaste viragos1 in flying ,botticellian 
draperies1 and slim1 naked ,cupids2 from
 such frontispieces ,domenico passed on 
to larger woodcuts1 destined to         
illustrate books never printed1 or      
perhaps1 like the so-called playing     
cards of ,mantegna and certain prints of
 ,robetta1 to be bought as cheap        
ornaments for walls4 ,some of those that
 remain to us have a classical          
stiffness1 reminding one of the ,paduan 
school2 others1 and these his best1     
remind one of the work of ,botticelli4  
,there is1 for instance1 the figure of a
 ,muse1 elaborately modelled under her  
ample drapery1 seated cross-legged by a 
playing fountain1 on a carpet of        
exquisitely designed ground-ivy1 a      
little bare trellis behind her1 a       
tortoise lyre in her hand2 which has in 
it somewhat of that odd1 vague1         
questioning character1 half of          
eagerness1 half of extreme lassitude1   
which we find in ,botticelli4 ,only that
 in ,neroni's work it seems not the     

outcome of a certain dreamy spiritual   
dissatisfaction--the dissatisfaction    
which makes us feel that ,botticelli's  
flower-wreathed nymphs may end in the   
pool under the willows like             
,ophelia--but rather of a torturing of  
line and attitude in search of grace4   
,grace6 ,unclutchable phantom1 which had
 appeared tantalisingly in ,neroni's    
recollections of the antique1 a         
something ineffable1 which he could not 
even see clearly when it was there      
before him1 accustomed as he had been to
 all the hideousness of anatomised      
reality4 ,in these woodcuts he seems    
hunting it for ever2 and there is one of
 them which is peculiarly significant1  
of a nymph in elaborately wound robes   
and veils1 striding1 with an odd1 mad1  
uncertain swing1 through fields of stiff
 grass and stunted rushes1 a baby faun  
in her bosom1 another tiny goat-legged  
creature led by the hand1 while she     
carries uncomfortably1 in addition to   
this load1 a silly trophy of            

wild-flowers tied to a stick2 the       
personification almost1 this lady with  
the wide eyes and crazy smile1 of the   
artist's foolishly and charmingly       
burdened journey in quest of the        
unattainable4 ,the imaginative quality1 
never intended or felt by the painter   
himself1 here depends on his embodying  
longings after the calm and stalwart    
goddesses on sarcophagus and vase1 in   
the very thing he most seeks to avoid1 a
 creature borrowed from a ,botticelli   
allegory1 or one of the sibyls of the   
unspeakable ,perugino himself6 ,the     
circumstances of this quest1 and the    
accidental meeting in it of the antique 
and the medival1 the straining1 the     
,quixote-riding or ,three-,king         
pilgrimaging after a phantom1 gives to  
such work of ,domenico's that           
indefinable quality of charm2 the man   
does not indeed become a poet1 but in a 
measure a subject for poetry4   ,,iii   
,in order to understand what must have  
passed in the mind of one of those      

,florentines of the fifteenth century1  
we must realise the fact that1 unlike   
ourselves1 they had not been brought up 
under the influence of the antique1 and1
 unlike the ancients1 they had not lived
 in intimacy with ,nature4 ,the         
followers of ,giotto had studied little 
beyond the head and hands1 and as much  
of the body as could be guessed at under
 drapery or understood from movement2   
and this achievement1 with no artistic  
traditions save those of the basest     
,byzantine decay1 was far greater than  
we easily appreciate4 ,it remained for  
the men of the fifteenth century1       
,donatello1 ,ghiberti1 ,masaccio1 and   
their illustrious followers1 to become  
familiar with the human body4 ,to do so 
is easy for every one in our day1 when  
we are born1 so to speak1 with an       
unconscious habit of antique form1      
diffused not merely by ancient works of 
art in marble or plaster1 but by more   
recent schools of art1 painting as well 
as sculpture1 themselves the outcome of 

classical imitation4 ,the early ,italian
 ,renaissance had little or none of     
these facilitations4 ,fragments of      
,greek and ,roman sculpture were still  
comparatively uncommon before the great 
excavations of the sixteenth century2   
nor was it possible for men so          
unfamiliar1 not merely with the antique1
 but with ,nature itself1 to profit very
 rapidly by the knowledge and taste     
stored up even in those fragments4 ,it  
was necessary to learn from reality to  
appreciate the antique1 however much the
 knowledge of the antique might later   
supplement1 and almost supplant1 the    
study of reality4 ,so these men of the  
fifteenth century had to teach          
themselves1 in the first instance1 the  
very elements of this knowledge4 ,and   
here their position1 while yet so unlike
 ours1 was even more utterly unlike that
 of the ancients themselves4 ,the great 
art of ,greece undoubtedly had its days 
of ignorance2 but for those ancient     
painters and sculptors1 who for         

generations had watched naked lads      
exercising in the school or racecourse1 
and draped1 half-naked men and women    
walking in the streets and working in   
the fields1 their ignorance was of the  
means of representation1 not of the     
object represented4 ,it is the hand1 the
 tool which is at fault in those        
constrained1 simpering warriors of the  
schools of gina1 in those slim-waisted  
dmonic dancers of the ,apulian vases2   
the eye is as familiar with the human   
body1 the mind as accustomed to select  
its beauty from its ugliness1 as the eye
 and mind of such of us as cannot paint 
are familiar nowadays with the shapes   
and colours1 with the charm of the trees
 and meadows that we love4 ,the         
contemporaries1 on the contrary1 of     
,donatello had received from the        
sculptors of the very farthest ,middle  
,ages1 those who carved the magnificent 
patterns of ,byzantine coffins and the  
exquisite leafage of ,longobard         
churches1 a remarkable mastery over the 

technical part of their craft4 ,the hand
 was cunning1 but the eye unfamiliar4   
,hence it comes that the sculpture of   
the earlier ,renaissance displays       
perfection of workmanship1 which        
occasionally blinds us to its poverty of
 form1 and even to its deficiency of    
science4 ,and hence also the rapidity   
with which every additional item of     
knowledge is put into practice that     
seems to argue perfect familiarity4 ,but
 these men were not really familiar with
 their work4 ,the dullest modern        
student1 brought up among casts and     
manuals1 would not be guilty of the     
actual anatomical mistakes committed    
every now and then by these great       
anatomists1 so passionately curious of  
internal structure1 so exquisitely      
faithful to minute peculiarity1 let     
alone the bunglings of men so certain of
 their pencil1 so exquisitely keen to   
form1 as ,botticelli4 ,as a matter of   
fact1 every statue or drawn figure of   
this period represents a hard fight with

 ignorance and with unfamiliarity worse 
than ignorance4 ,the grosser the failure
 hard-by1 the more splendid the real    
achievement4 ,for every limb modelled   
truthfully from the life1 every gesture 
rendered correctly1 every bone or muscle
 making itself felt under the skin1     
every crease or lump in the surface1 is 
so much conquered from the unknown4  ,so
 long as this study1 or rather this     
ignorance1 continued1 the antique could 
be appreciated only very partially1 and 
almost exclusively in the points in     
which it differed least from the works  
of these modern men4 ,it must have      
struck them by its unerring science1 its
 great truthfulness to nature1 but its  
superior beauty could not have appealed 
to artists too unfamiliar with form to  
think of selecting it4  ,the study of   
antique proportion1 the reproduction of 
antique types1 so visible in the        
sculptures of ,michelangelo1 of         
,cellini1 and of ,sansovino1 and no less
 in the painting of ,raphael1 of        

,andrea1 and even of the later          
,venetians1 was very unimportant in the 
school of ,donatello2 and it is probable
 that he and his pupils did not even    
perceive the difference between their   
own works and the old marbles1 which    
they studied merely as so many realistic
 documents4  ,during his ,florentine    
days ,domenico ,neroni1 like his        
masters1 was unconscious of the real    
superiority of the antique1 and blind to
 its difference from what his           
contemporaries and himself were striving
 to produce4 ,he did not perceive that  
the ,david of ,donatello and that of    
,verrocchio were unlike the marble gods 
and heroes with whom he would           
complacently compare them1 nor that the 
bas-reliefs of the divine ,ghiberti were
 far more closely connected with the    
,gothic work of ,orcagna1 even of the   
,pisans1 than with those sculptured     
sarcophagi collected by ,cosimo and     
,piero dei ,medici4 ,it was only when   
his insatiate curiosity had exhausted   

those problems of anatomy which had     
still troubled his teachers that he was 
able to see what the antique really was1
 or rather to see that the modern was   
not the same thing4 ,ghirlandaio1       
,filippino1 ,signorelli1 and ,botticelli
 undoubtedly were affected by a similar 
intuition of the ,antique2 but they were
 diverted from its thorough             
investigation by the manifold other     
problems of painting as distinguished   
from sculpture1 and by the vagueness1   
the unconsciousness of great creative   
activity3 the antique became one of the 
influences in their development1 helping
 very quietly to enlarge and refine     
their work4  ,it was different with     
,domenico1 in whom the man of science   
was much more powerful than the artist4 
,his nature required definite decisions 
and distinct formulas4 ,it took him some
 time to understand that the school of  
,donatello differed absolutely from the 
antique1 but the difference once felt1  
it appeared to him with extraordinary   

clearness4  ,he never put his thoughts  
into words1 and probably never admitted 
even to himself that the works he had   
most admired were lacking in beauty2 he 
merely asserted that the statues of the 
old ,romans and ,greeks were            
astonishingly beautiful4 ,in reality1   
however1 he was perpetually comparing   
the two1 and always to the disadvantage 
of the moderns4 ,it is possible in our  
day to judge justly the comparative     
merits of antique sculpture and of that 
of the early ,renaissance2 or rather to 
appreciate them as two separate sorts of
 art1 delightful in quite different     
ways1 letting ourselves be charmed not  
more by the actual beauty of form1 and  
nobility of movement of the one than by 
the simplicity1 the very homeliness1 the
 essentially human quality of the other4
 ,to us there is something delightful in
 the very fact that the ,davids of      
,donatello and ,verrocchio are mere     
ordinary striplings from the street and 
the workshop1 that the singers of ,luca 

della ,robbia are simple unfledged      
choir-boys1 and the ,virgins of ,mino   
,florentine fine ladies2 we have enough 
of antique perfection1 we have had too  
much of pseudo-antique faultlessness1   
and we feel refreshed by this           
unconsciousness of beauty and ugliness4 
,a contemporary could not enter into    
such feelings1 he could not enjoy his   
own and his fellows' navet2 besides1 the
 antique was only just becoming         
manifest1 and therefore triumphant4 ,to 
,domenico1 ,donatello's ,david became   
more and more unsatisfactory1 faulty    
above the waist1 positively ungainly    
below1 weak and lubberly2 how could so  
divine an artist have been satisfied    
with that flat back1 those narrow       
shoulders and thick thighs8 ,he felt    
freer to dislike the work of            
,verrocchio1 his own teacher1 and a man 
without ,donatello's overwhelming       
genius2 that ,david of his1 with his    
immense head and wizen face1 his pitiful
 child's arms and projecting clavicles1 

straddling with hand on hip2 was it     
possible that a great hero1 the slayer  
of a giant 7,domenico's notions of      
giants were taken rather from the       
romances of chivalry recited in the     
market than from study of ,scripture7   
should have been made like that8 ,and   
so1 like his great contemporary         
,mantegna in far-off ,lombardy1         
,domenico turned that eager curiosity   
with which he had previously sought for 
the secret of flayed limbs and fleshless
 skeletons1 to studying the mystery of  
proportion and beauty which was hidden1 
more subtly and hopelessly1 in the      
broken marbles of the ,pagans4  ,it     
happened one day1 somewhere about the   
year #adhe1 that he was called to       
examine a group of ,bacchus and a ,faun1
 recently brought from ,naples by the   
banker ,neri ,altoviti1 of the family   
which once owned a charming house1      
recently destroyed1 whose triple row of 
pillared balconies used to put an odd   
,florentine note into the ,papal ,rome1 

turning the swirl of the ,tiber opposite
 ,saint ,angelo's into a reach of the   
,arno4 ,the houses of the ,altovitis in 
,florence were in that portion of the   
town most favoured by the fifteenth     
century1 already a little way from the  
market3 the lion on the tower of the    
,podest1 and the ,badia steeple printing
 the sky close by2 while not far off was
 the shop where the good bookseller     
,vespasiano received orders for         
manuscripts1 and conversed with the     
humanists whose lives he was to write4  
,the ,albizis and ,pandolfinis1         
illustrious and numerous families1      
struck in so many of their members by   
the vindictiveness of the ,medicis1 had 
their houses in the same quarter1 and at
 the corner of the narrow street hung   
the carved escutcheon--two fishes       
rampant--of the ,pazzis3 their house    
shut up and avoided by the citizens1 who
 had so recently seen the conspirators  
dangling in hood and cape from the      
windows of the public palace4 ,the house

 of the ,altovitis was occupied on the  
ground floor by great warehouses1 whose 
narrow1 grated windows were attainable  
only by a steep flight of steps4 ,the   
court was surrounded on three sides by a
 cloister or portico1 which repeated    
itself on the first and second floors1  
with the difference that the lowest     
arches were supported by rude square    
pillars1 ornamented with only a carved  
marigold1 while the uppermost weighed on
 stout oaken shafts1 between which ropes
 were stretched for the drying of linen2
 and the middle colonnade consisted of  
charming ,tuscan columns1 where ,sirens 
and ,cupids and heraldic devices        
replaced the acanthus or rams' horns of 
the capitals4 ,it was to this middle    
portion of the house that ,domenico     
ascended up a noble steep-stepped       
staircase1 protected from the rain by a 
vaulted and rosetted roof1 for it was   
external and occupied the side of the   
yard left free from cloisters4 ,the     
great banker had bidden ,domenico to his

 midday meal1 which was served with a   
frugality now fast disappearing1 but    
once habitual even among the richest    
,florentines4 ,but though the food was  
simple and almost scanty1 nearly forty  
persons sat down to meat together1 for  
,neri ,altoviti held to the old plan1   
commended by ,alberti in his dialogue on
 the governing of a household1 that the 
clerks and principal servants of a      
merchant were best chosen among his own 
kinsfolk1 living under his roof1 and    
learning obedience from the example of  
his children4 ,despite this frugality1  
the dining-room was1 though bare1       
magnificent4 ,there were none of those  
carpets and ,eastern stuffs which       
surprised strangers from the ,north in  
the voluptuous little palaces of        
contemporary ,venetians1 and the benches
 were hard and narrow4 ,but the ceiling 
overhead was magnificently arranged in  
carved compartments1 great gold         
sunflowers and cherubs projecting from a
 dark blue ground among the brown       

raftering2 in the middle of the         
stencilled wall was one of those high   
sideboards so frequently shown in old   
paintings1 covered with gold and silver 
dishes and platters embossed by the most
 skilful craftsmen2 and at one end a    
great washing trough and fountain1 such 
as still exist in sacristies1 ornamented
 with groups of dancing children by     
,benedetto da ,maiano2 while behind the 
high seat of the father of the family a 
great group of saints1 emerging from    
blooming lilies and surrounded by a     
glory of angels1 was hanging in a frame 
divided into carved compartments3 the   
work1 panel and frame1 of the late      
,brother ,filippo ,lippi4 ,at one end of
 the board sat all the men1 arranged    
hierarchically1 from the father in his  
black loose robe to lads in short       
plaited tunic and striped hose2 the     
womankind were seated together1 and the 
daughters1 even the mother of the house1
 modest and almost nunlike in apparel   
and head-dress1 would rise and help to  

wait on the men1 with that silent and   
grave courtesy which1 according to      
,vespasiano1 had disappeared from       
,florence with ,alessandra dei ,bardi4  
,there was little speech1 and only in   
undertones2 a ,franciscan said a long   
grace1 and afterwards1 and in the middle
 of the meal1 a young student1 educated 
by the frequent munificence of the      
,altovitis1 read out loud a chapter of  
,cicero's ,de ,senectute2 for ,neri1    
although a busy banker1 with but little 
time for study1 was not behind his      
generation in the love of letters and   
philosophy4  ,after meat ,messer ,neri  
dismissed the rest of the company to    
their various avocations2 the ladies    
silently retired to superintend the     
ironing and mending of the house linen1 
and ,domenico was escorted by his host  
to see the newly arrived piece of       
statuary4 ,it had been placed already in
 the banker's closet1 where he could    
feast his eyes on its perfection while  
attending to his business or improving  

his mind by study4 ,this closet1        
compared to the rest of the house1 was  
small and low-roofed4 ,at its end1 as we
 see in the pictures of ,van ,eyck and  
,memling1 opened out the conjugal       
chamber1 reflecting its vast1           
red-covered bed1 raised several steps1  
its crucifix and praying-stool1 and its 
latticed window in a circular mirror    
framed in cut facets1 which hung        
opposite on the wall of the closet4 ,the
 latter was dark1 a single trefoiled    
window admitting on either side of its  
column and through its greenish         
bottle-glass but little light from the  
narrow street4 ,the chief furniture     
consisted of shelves carrying books1    
small antique bronzes1 some globes1 a   
sand-glass1 and panel cupboards1        
ornamented with pictures of similar     
objects1 and with ingenious perspectives
 of inlaid wood4 ,an elaborate iron     
safe1 painted blue and studded with     
beautiful metal roses1 stood in a       
corner4 ,there were two or three arm    

chairs of carved oak for visitors4 ,the 
master sat upon a bench behind an oaken 
counter or desk1 very much like ,st4    
,jerome in his study4 ,on the wall      
behind1 and above his head1 hung a      
precious ,flemish painting 7,flemish    
paintings were esteemed for their       
superior devoutness7 representing the   
,virgin at the foot of the ,cross1 with 
a ,nativity and a ,circumcision on      
either of the opened shutters4 ,it made 
a glowing patch of vivid geranium and   
wine colour1 of warm yellow glazing on  
the oak of the wall4 ,on the counter or 
writing-table stood a majolica pot with 
three lilies in it1 a pile of manuscript
 and ledgers1 and a human skull         
alongside of a crucifix1 beautifully    
wrought of bronze by ,desiderio da      
,settignano4 ,a ,latin translation of   
,plato's ,phdo was spread open on the   
desk1 together with one of the earliest 
printed copies of the ,divine ,comedy4  
,messer ,neri did not take his seat at  
the counter1 but1 after a pause1 and    

with some solemnity1 drew a curtain of  
dark brocade which had been spread      
across one end of the closet1 and       
displayed his new purchase4  ,i have it 
from the king1 for the settling of a    
debt of a thousand crowns contracted    
with my father1 when he was ,duke of    
,calabria1 said the banker1 with due    
appreciation of the sum4 ',tis said they
 found it among the ruins of that famous
 palace of the ,emperor ,tiberius of    
which ,tacitus has told us4  ,the two   
marble figures1 to which time and a long
 sojourn underground had given a        
brownish yellow colour1 reddish in      
places with rust stains1 stood out      
against a background of ,flemish        
tapestry1 whose emaciated heads of kings
 and thin bodies of warrior saints made 
a confused pattern on the general dusky 
blue and green4 ,the group was in       
wonderful preservation3 the figure of   
,bacchus intact1 that of the young faun 
lacking only the arm1 which had         
evidently been freely extended4  ,it    

exists in many repetitions and          
variations in most of our museums2 a    
work originally of the school of        
,praxiteles1 but in none of the copies  
handed to us of excellence sufficient to
 display the hand of the original       
sculptor4 ,besides1 we have been spoilt 
by familiarity with an older and more   
powerful school1 by knowledge of a few  
great masterpieces1 for complete        
appreciation of such a work4 ,but it was
 different four hundred years ago2 and  
,domenico ,neroni stood long and        
entranced before the group4 ,the        
principal figure embodied all those     
beauties which he had been striving so  
hard to understand3 it was1 in the most 
triumphant manner1 the absolute reverse 
of the figures of ,donatello4  ,the     
young god was represented walking with  
leisurely but vigorous step1 supporting 
himself upon the shoulder of the little 
satyr as the vine supports itself1 with 
tendrils trailed about branches and     
trunk1 on the propping tree from which  

the child ,ampelos took his name4 ,like 
the head with its elaborately dressed   
curls1 the beautiful body had an        
ampleness and tenderness that gave an   
impression almost womanly till you      
noticed the cuirass-like sit of the     
chest on the loins1 and the compressed  
strength of the long light thighs4 ,the 
creature1 as you looked at him1 seemed  
to reveal more and more1 beneath the    
roundness and fairness of surface1 the  
elasticity and strength of an athlete in
 training4 ,but when the eye was not    
exploring the delicate1 hard1 and yet   
supple depressions and swellings of the 
muscles1 the slender shapeliness of the 
long legs and springy feet1 the back    
bulging with strong muscles above1 and  
going in1 tight1 with a magnificent dip 
at the waist2 all impressions were      
merged in a sense of ease1 of suavity1  
of full-blown harmony4 ,here was no pomp
 of anatomical lore1 of cunning         
handicraft1 but the life seemed to      
circulate strong and gentle in this     

exquisite effortless body4 ,and the     
creature was not merely alive with a    
life more harmonious than that of living
 men or carved marbles1 but beautiful1  
equally in simple outline if you chose  
that1 and in subtle detail when that    
came under your notice1 with a beauty   
that seemed to multiply itself1 existing
 in all manners1 as it can only in      
things that have life1 in perfect       
flowers and fruits1 or high-bred        
,oriental horses4 ,of such things did   
the under-strata of consciousness       
consist in ,neroni--vague impressions of
 certain bunches of grapes with their   
great rounded leaves hanging against the
 blue sky1 of the flame-like tapered    
petals of wild tulips in the fields1 of 
the golden brown flanks of certain      
horses1 and the broad white foreheads of
 the ,umbrian bullocks2 forming as it   
were a background for the perception of 
this god1 for no man or woman had ever  
been like unto him4  ,domenico remained 
silent1 his arms folded on his breast2  

it was not a case for talking4  ,but the
 young man who had read ,cicero aloud at
 table had come up behind him1 and      
thought it more seemly to praise his    
patron's new toy1 while at the same time
 displaying his learning2 so he cleared 
his throat1 and said in a pompous       
manner3--  ,it is stated in the fifth   
chapter of the ,geography of ,strabo    
that the painter ,parrhasius1 having    
been summoned by the inhabitants of     
,lindos to make them an image of their  
tutelary hero ,hercules1 obtained from  
the son of ,jupiter that he should      
appear to him in a dream1 and thus      
enable him worthily to portray the      
perfections of a demigod4 ,might we not 
be tempted to believe that the divine   
son of ,semele had vouchsafed a similar 
boon to the happy sculptor of this      
marble8  ,but ,domenico only bit his    
thumb and sighed very heavily4   ,,iv   
,to the men of those days1 which have   
taken their name from the revival of    
classical studies1 ,antiquity1 although 

studied and aped till its phrases1      
feelings1 and thoughts had entered      
familiarly into all life1 remained1     
nevertheless1 a period of permanent     
miracle4 ,it was natural1 therefore1 to 
the contemporaries of ,poggius and neas 
,sylvius1 of ,ficinus and ,politian1    
that the art of the ,romans and ,greeks 
should1 like their poetry1 philosophy1  
and even their virtues1 be of           
transcendent and unqualified splendour4 
,why it should be thus they asked as    
little as why the sun shines1 medival   
men as they really were1 and accepting  
quite simply certain phenomena as the   
result of inscrutable virtues4 ,even    
later1 when ,machiavelli began to       
examine why the ancients had been more  
valorous and patriotic than his         
contemporaries1 nay1 when ,montaigne    
expounded with sceptical cynicism the   
superior sanity and wisdom of ,pagan    
days1 people were satisfied to          
think--when they thought at all--that   
antique art was excellent because it    

belonged to antiquity4 ,and it was not  
till the middle of the eighteenth       
century that the genius of ,winkelmann  
brought into fruitful contact the study 
of ancient works of art1 and that of the
 manners and notions of antiquity1      
showing the influence of a civilisation 
which cultivated bodily beauty as an    
almost divine quality1 and making us see
 behind that beautiful nation of marble 
the generations of living athletes1     
among whom the sculptor had found his   
critics and his models4  ,to a man like 
,domenico ,neroni1 devoid of classical  
learning and accustomed to struggling   
with anatomy and perspective1 the       
problem of ancient art was not settled  
by the fact of its antiquity4 ,he had   
gone once more to ,rome on purpose to   
see as many old marbles as possible1 and
 he brought to their study the feverish 
curiosity with which in former years he 
had flayed and cut up corpses and spent 
his nights in calculations of           
perspective4 ,to such a mind1 where     

modern scientific methods were arising  
among medival habits of allegory and    
mysticism1 the statues and reliefs which
 he was perpetually analysing became a  
sort of subsidiary nature1 whose riddles
 might be read by other means than mere 
investigation2 for do not the forces of 
,nature1 its elemental spirits1 give    
obedience to wonderful words and potent 
combinations of numbers8  ,certain      
significant facts had flashed across his
 mind in his studies of that almost     
abstract1 nay1 almost cabalistic thing1 
the science of bodily proportions4 ,it  
was plain that the mystery of antique   
beauty--the ancient symmetry1 symmetria 
prisca as a humanist designs it in his  
epitaph for ,leonardo da ,vinci--was but
 a matter of numbers4 ,for a man's      
length1 if he stand with outstretched   
arms1 is the same from finger tip to    
finger tip as his length when erect from
 head to feet1 namely1 eight times the  
length of his head4 ,now eight heads1 if
 divided into halves1 give four as the  

measure of throat and thorax2 and four  
heads to the length of the leg from the 
acetabulum to the heel1 divided         
themselves into two heads going to the  
thigh and two heads to the shank2 while 
in the cross measurement two heads equal
 the breadth of the chest1 and three    
measure the length from the shoulder to 
the middle finger4 ,these measures--a   
mere rough rule of thumb in our         
eyes--contained to this medival mind the
 promise of some great mystery4 ,to him1
 accustomed to hear all the occurrences 
of ,nature1 and all human concerns      
referred to astrological calculations1  
and conceiving the universe as governed 
by spirits--in shape1 perhaps1 like the 
,primum ,mobile1 the ,mercurius and     
,jupiter of ,mantegna's playing cards1  
crowned with stars and poised upon      
globes--it was as if the divining rod   
were turning pertinaciously to one spot 
in the earth1 where1 had he but the     
necessary tools1 he must strike upon    
veins of the purest gold1 or cause water

 to spirt high in the air4 ,this number 
eight1 and the pertinacity of its       
recurrence1 puzzled him intensely4 ,it  
seemed to point so clearly1 much as in  
music the sensitive seventh points to   
the tonic1 to a sort of resolution on   
the number nine4 ,and if only nine could
 be established1 it would seem to       
explain so much4444 ,for five being     
man's numeral in creation 7and is not   
the measurement of his face also five   
eyes871 it makes1 when added to four1   
the number of the material elements over
 which he dominates1 nine1 which would  
thus represent the supremacy or         
perfection of man4 ,man's power of      
reproduction being represented by three1
 its multiple nine would be still more  
obviously important4 ,how to turn this  
eight into nine became ,domenico's      
study1 and he took measurement after    
measurement for this purpose4 ,at length
 he remembered that man's body is a     
unity1 therefore represented by the     
number one1 and that will1 judgment1 and

 supremacy are also comprised in the    
unit4 ,now one and eight make nine      
beyond all possibility of doubt1 and the
 formula--man's body is a unity--or     
one--composed of harmonies of eight1    
would give the formula nine meaning     
man's supremacy is expressed in his     
body4 ,the importance of working round  
to this famous nine will be clear when  
we reflect that1 according to the       
,kabbala and the lost sacred book of    
,hermes ,trismegistus--the ,pimandra1   
doubtless1 which he is represented1 on  
the floor of ,siena ,cathedral1 as      
offering to a ,jew and a ,gentile--nine 
represents the sun and all beautiful    
bright things that draw their influence 
from it1 as the gleam of beaten gold1   
the rustle of silken stuffs1 the smell  
of the flower heliotrope1 and all such  
men as delineate human beings with      
colours1 or make their effigy in stone  
or metal2 moreover1 ,phoebus ,apollo1   
whom the poets describe as the most     
beautiful of the gods1 as indeed he is  

represented in all statues and reliefs4 
,domenico would often discuss these     
matters with a learned man who greatly  
frequented his company4 ,this was the   
humanist ,niccol ,feo1 known as         
,filarete4 ,filarete was a native of    
,southern ,apulia1 a bastard of the     
house of the ,counts of ,sulmona1 who1  
in order to prevent any plots against   
the legitimate branch1 had handsomely   
provided for him in an abbey of which   
they enjoyed the patronage4 ,but his    
restless spirit drove him from the      
cloister1 and impelled him to long and  
adventurous journeys4 ,he had travelled 
in ,india and the ,east1 and in ,greece1
 returning to ,italy only when          
,constantinople fell before the ,turks4 
,during these years he had acquired     
immense learning1 considerable wealth1  
and a vaguely sinister reputation4 ,he  
had been persecuted by ,paul ,,ii4 for  
taking part in the famous banquets1     
savouring oddly of ,paganism1 of        
,pomponius ,ltus2 but the late ,pontiff 

,sixtus ,,iv4 had taken him into his    
favour together with ,platina1 one of   
his fellow-sufferers in the castle of   
,saint ,angelo4 ,he was now old1 and1   
after a life of study1 adventure1 and   
possibly of sin1 was living in affluence
 in a house given him by the illustrious
 ,cardinal at ,st4 ,peter ad ,vincula1  
who had also obtained him a canonry of  
,st4 ,john ,lateran4 ,he was busying his
 last year in a great work of fancy and 
erudition1 for which he required the    
assistance of a skilful draughtsman and 
connoisseur of antiquities1 than whom   
none could suit him so well as ,domenico
 ,neroni4  ,the book of ,filarete1 of   
which the rare copies are among the most
 precious relics of the ,renaissance1   
was a strange mixture of romance1       
allegory1 and encyclopdic knowledge1    
such as had been common in the ,middle  
,ages1 and was still fashionable during 
the revival of letters1 which merely    
added the element of classical learning4
 ,like the ,hypnerotomachia ,poliphili  

of ,francesco ,colonna1 of which it was 
doubtless the prototype1 the ,alcandros 
of ,filarete1 though never carried      
beyond the first volume1 is an amazing  
and wearisome display of the author's   
archological learning4 ,it contains     
exact descriptions of all the rarities  
of ancient art1 and of things ,oriental 
which he had seen1 and pages of         
transcripts from obscure ,latin and     
,greek authors1 descriptive of religious
 ceremonies2 varied with ,platonic      
philosophy1 ,decameronian obscenities1  
in laboured pseudo-,florentine style1   
and ,dantesque visions1 all held        
together by the confused narrative of an
 allegorical journey performed by the   
author4 ,it is profusely ornamented with
 woodcuts1 representing architectural   
designs of a fantastic1 rather ,oriental
 description1 restorations of ancient   
buildings1 reproductions of antique     
inscriptions and designs1 and last1 but 
far from least1 a certain number of     
small compositions1 of ,mantegnesque    

quality1 but ,botticellian charm1       
showing the various adventures of the   
hero in terrible woods1 delicious       
gardens1 and in the company of nymphs1  
demigods1 and allegorical personages4   
,these latter are undoubtedly from the  
hand of ,domenico ,neroni2 and it was   
while discussing these delightful       
damsels seated with lutes and psalteries
 under vine-trellises1 these scholars in
 cap and gown1 weeping in quaint        
chambers with canopied beds and         
carnations growing on the window1 these 
processions--suggesting ,mantegna's     
,triumph of ,julius ,csar--of priests   
and priestesses with victories and      
trophies1 that the painter from         
,volterra and the ,apulian humanist     
would discuss the secret of antique     
beauty--discuss it for hours1 surrounded
 by the precious manuscripts and        
inscriptions1 the fragments of          
sculpture1 the ,eastern rarities1 of    
,filarete's little house on the         
,quirinal hill1 or among the box-hedges1

 clipped cypresses1 and fountains of his
 garden2 while the riots and massacres1 
the fanatical processions and feudal    
wars1 of medival ,rome raged unnoticed  
below4 ,for ,pope ,sixtus and his       
,riarios1 and ,pope ,innocent and his   
,cybos1 thirsting for power and gold1   
drunken with lust and bloodshed1 were   
benign and courteous patrons of all art 
and all learning4   ,v  ,but that number
 nine1 attained with so much difficulty1
 although it put the human proportion   
into visible connection with the sun1   
with beaten gold1 the smell of the      
heliotrope1 and the god ,apollo1 and    
opened a vista of complicated astral    
influences1 did not in reality bring    
,domenico one step nearer the object of 
his desires4 ,it had enabled those      
ancient men to make statues that were   
perfectly beautiful1 that was obvious2  
but it did not make his own figures one 
tittle less hideous1 for he felt them   
now to be absolutely hideous4 ,one      
wintry day1 as he was roaming amongst   

the fallen pillars and arches1 thickly  
covered with myrtle and ilex1 of the    
desolate region beyond what had once    
been the ,forum and was now the         
cattle-market1 there came across        
,domenico's mind1 while he watched a    
snake twisting in the grass1 the        
remembrance of a certain anecdote about 
a ,greek painter1 to whom ,hercules had 
shown himself in a vision4 ,he had heard
 it1 without taking any notice1 two     
years before1 from the young scholar who
 read ,cicero at table for ,messer ,neri
 ,altoviti2 and although he had thought 
of it several times1 it had never struck
 him except as one of the usual impudent
 displays of learning of the parasitic  
tribe of humanists4  ,but at this moment
 the remembrance of this fact came as a 
great light into ,domenico's soul4 ,for 
what were these statues save the idols  
of the heathens2 and what wonder they   
should be divinely beautiful1 when those
 who made them might see the gods in    
visions8  ,this explanation1 which to us

 must sound far-fetched and fantastic1  
knowing1 as we do1 the real reason that 
made a people of athletes into a people 
of sculptors1 savoured of no strangeness
 to a man of the ,middle ,ages4 ,visions
 of superhuman creatures were among the 
most undisputed articles of his belief1 
and among the commonest subjects of his 
art4 ,had not the ,blessed ,virgin      
appeared to ,st4 ,bernard1 the ,saviour 
among ,his cherubim to ,st4             
,francis--the very stones shown at ,la  
,vernia where it had happened--the      
,divine ,bridegroom to ,catherine of    
,siena8 ,had not ,st4 ,anthony of ,padua
 held the ,divine ,child in his arms8   
,and all not so long ago8 ,besides1     
every year there was some nun or monk   
claiming to have conversed with ,christ 
and ,his court2 and the heavens were    
opening quite frequently in the walls of
 cells and the clefts of hermitages4    
,and did not ,dante relate a journey    
into ,hell1 ,purgatory1 and ,paradise8  
,it was perfectly natural that what was 

constantly happening to holy men and    
women nowadays should have happened in  
,pagan times also2 and what men could so
 well have deserved a visit from gods as
 those who spent their lives faithfully 
portraying them8 ,the story of          
,parrhasius and his vision was familiar 
ground to a man accustomed to see1 in   
all corners of ,italy1 portraits of the 
,saviour painted by ,st4 ,luke1 or      
finished1 like the famous ,holy ,face of
 ,lucca1 by angels4 ,for an absolute    
contempt for the artistic value of such 
miraculous images did not1 in the mind  
of ,neroni1 throw any doubt on their    
authenticity2 in the same way that the  
passion for antiquity1 the hankering    
after ,pagan beliefs1 did not probably  
interfere with the orthodoxy of so many 
of the humanists4 ,domenico1 besides1   
remembered that ,virgil and ,ovid1 whom 
he had not read1 but whose fables he had
 sometimes been asked to illustrate1    
were constantly talking of visions of   
gods and goddesses1 nay1 of their       

descending upon earth to unite          
themselves with mortals in love or      
friendship1 for he had had to furnish   
designs for woodcuts representing ,diana
 and ,endymion1 ,jupiter and ,ganymede1 
the gods coming to ,philemon and        
,baucis1 and ,apollo tending the herds  
of ,admetus4 ,neither did it occur to   
,domenico's mind that the existence of  
the old gods might be a mere invention1 
or a mere delusion of the heathen4 ,for 
all their classic culture1 the men of   
the fifteenth century1 as the men of the
 thirteenth for all their scholasticism1
 were in an intellectual condition such 
as we rarely meet with nowadays among   
educated persons2 and ,domenico1 a mere 
handicraftsman1 had not learned from the
 study of ,cicero and ,plato to examine 
and understand the difference between   
reality and fiction4 ,to him a scene    
which was frequently painted1 an        
adventure which was written down and    
could be read1 was necessarily a        
reality4 ,dante had spoken of the gods1 

and what ,dante said was evidently true1
 the allegorical meaning1 the metaphor1 
entirely escaping this simple mind2 and 
,virgil1 ,homer1 ,ovid told the most    
minute details about gods and goddesses1
 and they themselves were grave and     
learned men4 ,domenico did not even     
think that the ancient gods were dead4  
,of course heaven was now occupied by   
,christ and ,his saints1 those heavenly 
hosts of whom he would think1 when he   
thought of them at all1 as seated       
stepwise on a great stand1 blue and pink
 and green in dress1 golden discs about 
their heads1 and an atmosphere of       
fretted gold1 of swirling stencilled    
golden angels' wings all round them1 and
 ,god the ,father1 a great triangle     
blazing with ,alpha and ,omega1 above   
,jesus enthroned1 and ,his mother2 and  
it was they who ruled things here1 and  
to them he said his prayers night and   
morning1 and knelt in church4 ,but here1
 somehow did not cover the whole        
universe1 nor did that pink and blue and

 gold miniature painter's heaven extend 
everywhere1 although1 of course1 somehow
 or other it did4 ,anyhow1 it was       
certain that not so very far off there  
were ,saracens and ,turks--why he had   
seen some of the ,duke of ,calabria's   
,turkish garrison--who believed in      
,macomet1 ,trevigant1 and ,apollinis2   
these to be sure were false gods 7the   
word false carried no clear meaning to  
his mind1 or if any1 one rather         
equivalent to wrong1 objectionable      
rather than to non-existent71 but they  
certainly worked wonderful miracles for 
their people4 ,and indeed--here         
,domenico's placid contemplation of the 
kingdom of ,macomet1 ,trevigant1 and    
,apollinis was exchanged for a vague    
horror1 shot with gleams of             
curiosity--the devil also had his place 
in the world1 a place much nearer and   
universal1 and did marvellous things1   
pointing out treasures1 teaching the    
future1 lending invulnerable strength to
 the men and women who worshipped him1  

of whom some might be pointed out to you
 in every town--yes1 grave and          
respectable men1 priests and monks among
 them1 and even ,cardinals of ,holy     
,church1 as every one knew quite        
well4444 ,so that1 in a confused manner1
 rather negative than positive1         
,domenico considered that the ,pagan    
gods must be somewhere or other1 the    
past and present not very clearly       
separated in his mind1 or rather the    
past existing in a peculiar simultaneous
 manner with the present1 as a sort of  
,st4 ,brandan's isle1 in distant1       
unattainable seas2 or as ,dante's       
mountain of ,purgatory1 a very solid    
mountain indeed1 yet which1 for some    
mysterious and unquestioned reason1     
people never stumbled upon except after 
death4 ,all this was scarcely an actual 
series of arguments2 it was rather the  
arguments which1 with much effort1      
,domenico might have fished out of his  
obscure consciousness had you summoned  
him to explain how the ancient gods     

could possibly be immortal4 ,as to him1 
he had always heard of them as immortal1
 and although he had not been taught any
 respect or love for them as for        
,christ1 the ,madonna1 and the saints1  
they must be existing somewhere since   
immortal means that which cannot die4   
,but now he began to feel a certain     
shyness about immortal gods1 for they   
had begun to occupy his thoughts1 and it
 was with much cunning that he put      
questions to his friend ,filarete1      
desirous to gain information on certain 
points without actually seeming to ask  
it4 ,the humanist1 summoned to explain  
what the ,fathers of the ,church--those 
worthies crowned with mitres and        
offering rolls of manuscript1 whom      
,domenico had occasionally to portray   
for his customers--said about the       
ancient gods1 answered with much        
glibness but considerable contempt1 for 
the ,greek and ,latin of these saintly  
philosophers inspired the learned man   
with a feeling of nausea4 ,he got out of

 a chest several volumes covered with   
dust1 and began to quote the ,apology of
 ,justin ,martyr1 the ,legation of      
,athenagoras1 the ,apology of           
,tertullian and ,lactantius1 whose very 
name caused him to writhe with          
philological loathing4 ,and he told     
,domenico that it was the opinion of    
these holy but ill-educated persons that
 dmons assumed the name and attributes  
of ,jupiter1 of ,venus1 of ,apollo and  
,bacchus1 lurking in temples1           
instituting festivals and sacrifices1   
and were often allowed by ,heaven to    
distract the faithful by a display of   
miracles4  ,then they are devils8 asked 
,domenico1 trying to follow4  ,a smile  
passed over the beautifully cut mouth1  
the noble1 wrinkled face--like that of  
the marble ,seneca--of the old humanist4
  ,talk of devils to the barefoot friar 
who preaches in the midst of the        
market-place1 he said1 not to ,filarete4
 ,the whole world1 air1 fire1 earth1    
water1 the entire universe is governed  

by dmons1 and they inspire our noblest  
thoughts4 ,hast never heard of the      
familiar dmon of ,socrates1 whispering  
to him superhuman wisdom8 ,yes1 indeed1 
,venus1 ,apollo1 sculapius1 ,jove1 the  
stars and planets1 the winds and tides  
are dmons4 ,but thou canst not          
understand such matters1 my poor        
,domenico4 ,so get thee to ,brother     
,baldassare of ,palermo1 and ask him    
questions4  ,but ,filarete's expression 
was very different when1 one day1       
,domenico shyly inquired concerning the 
truth of that story of ,parrhasius and  
the ,hercules of ,lindos4 ,strange      
rumours were current in ,rome of unholy 
festivities in which ,filarete and other
 learned men--some of those whom ,paul  
,,ii4 had thrown into prison--had once  
taken part4 ,they had not merely laid   
their tables and spread their couches   
according to descriptions contained in  
ancient authors2 but1 crowned with      
roses1 laurel1 myrtle1 or parsley1 had  
sung hymns to the heathen gods1 and1 it 

was whispered1 poured out libations and 
burned incense in their honour4 ,their  
friends1 indeed1 had answered scornfully
 that these were but amusements of      
learned men2 not to be taken more       
seriously than the invocations to the   
gods and muses in their poems1 than the 
mythological subjects which the ,popes  
themselves selected to adorn their      
dwellings4 ,and doubtless this          
explanation was correct4 ,yet the       
pleasure of these little pedantic and   
artistic mummeries1 which took place in 
suburban gardens1 while the townsfolk   
streamed in the hot ,june nights1 decked
 with bunches of cloves and of lavender1
 to make bonfires in the empty places   
near the ,lateran1 little guessing that 
their ancestors had once done the same  
in honour of the neighbouring           
,venus--the innocent childishness of    
these learned men was perhaps spiced1   
for some individuals at least1 by a     
momentary belief in the gods of the old 
poets1 by a sudden forbidden fervour for

 the exiled divinities of ,virgil and   
,ovid1 under whose reign the world had  
been young1 men had been free to love   
and think1 and ,rome1 now the object of 
the world's horror and contempt1 had    
been the world's triumphant mistress4   
,but these had been mere mummeries1 mere
 child's play1 and the soul of ,filarete
 had thirsted for a reality4 ,he could  
not have answered had you asked whether 
he believed in the absolute existence   
and power of the old gods1 any more than
 whether he disbelieved in the power of 
,christ and ,his avenging angels2 his   
cultivated and sceptical mind was1 after
 all1 in a state of disorder similar to 
that of ,domenico's ignorance4 ,all that
 he knew with certainty was that ,christ
 and ,his worship represented to him all
 that was unnatural1 cruel1 foolish1 and
 hypocritical2 while the gods were      
associated with every thought of        
liberty1 of beauty1 and of glory4 ,and  
so1 one evening1 after working up still 
further the enthusiasm1 the passionate  

desire of his friend1 he told ,domenico 
that1 if he chose1 he too perhaps might 
see a god4  ,in his antiquarian rambles 
,filarete had discovered1 a mile or two 
outside the southern gates of ,rome1 a  
subterranean chamber1 richly adorned    
with stuccoes--known nowadays as the    
tomb of certain members of the ,flavian 
family1 but which1 thanks to the        
defective knowledge of his day and the  
habit of seeing people buried in        
churches1 the humanist had mistaken for 
a temple--intact1 and scarcely          
desecrated1 of the ,eleusinian ,bacchus4
 ,above its vaults1 barely indicated by 
a higher mound in the waving ground of  
the pasture land1 had once stood a      
,christian church1 as ancient almost as 
the supposed temple below1 whose        
,byzantine columns lay half hidden by   
the high grass1 and the walls of whose  
apse had become overgrown by ivy and    
weeds1 the nest of lazy snakes4 ,the    
,gothic soldiers1 ,arians or heathens1  
who had burned down1 in some drunken    

bout1 the little church above-ground1   
had penetrated at the same time into the
 tomb beneath in search of treasure1 and
 finding none1 dispersed the bones in   
the sarcophagi they had opened4 ,they   
had left open the aperture leading      
downward1 which had been matted over by 
a thick growth of ivy and wild clematis4
 ,one day1 while surveying the remains  
of the ,christian church1 always in     
hopes of discovering in it a former     
temple of the ,pagans1 ,filarete had    
walked into that tuft of solid green1   
and found himself1 buried and half      
stunned1 in the mouth of the tomb below4
 ,it was through this that he bade      
,domenico follow him1 bearing a certain 
mysterious package in his cloak1 one    
,january day of the year fourteen       
hundred and eighty-eight4  ,above-ground
 it had frozen in the night2 here below1
 when they had descended the rugged     
sepulchral stairs1 the air had a damp   
warmth1 an odd feel of inhabitation4    
,above-ground1 also1 everything lay in  

ruins1 while here all was intact4 ,as   
the light of the torches moved slowly   
along the vaulted and stuccoed ceilings1
 it showed the delicate lines of a      
profusion of little reliefs and         
ornaments1 fresh as if cast and coloured
 yesterday4 ,slender garlands of leaves1
 and long knotted ribbons and veils in  
lowest relief partitioned the space2 and
 framed by them1 now round1 now oval1   
now oblong1 were medallions of naked    
gods banqueting and playing games1 of   
satyrs and nymphs dancing1 nereids      
swinging on the backs of hippocamps1    
tritons curling their tails and blowing 
their horns1 ,cupids fluttering among   
griffins and chimras2 a life of laughter
 and love1 which mocked the eye1        
starting into vividness in one place1   
dying away in a mere film where the     
torchlight pressed on too closely in    
others4 ,all along the walls1 below the 
line of the stuccoes1 were excavated    
shelves1 on which stood numbers of small
 cinerary boxes1 each bearing a name4   

,in the middle of the vaulted chamber   
was a huge stone coffin1 carved with    
revelling ,bacchantes1 and grim tragic  
masks at its corners2 and all round the 
coffin1 broken in one of its flanks by  
the tools of the treasure-seeker1 lay   
bones and skulls1 dispersed on the damp 
ground even as the ,goths had left them4
  ,it was this sarcophagus which1 with  
its ,dionysiac revels1 and the name of  
one ,dionysius carved on it1 a freedman 
of the ,flavians1 had led ,filarete to  
consider the tomb as a kind of temple   
consecrated to ,bacchus4  ,filarete bade
 ,domenico stick the pointed end of his 
torch into the mouth of an amphora      
standing erect in a corner1 and began to
 unpack the load they had brought on a  
mule4 ,it looked like the preparation   
for a feast3 there were loaves of bread1
 fruit1 a flask of choice wine2 and     
,domenico1 for a moment1 thought the old
 man mad4 ,but his feelings changed when
 ,filarete produced a set of silver     
lamps1 and bade him trim and light them1

 placing them on the ledges alongside of
 the cinerary urns2 and when he lit some
 strange incense and filled the place   
with its smoke4 ,despite the many       
descriptions of ancient sacrifices with 
which the humanist had entertained him1 
,domenico had brought a vague notion of 
a raising of devils1 and felt relieved  
at the absence of brimstone fumes1 and  
of the magic books that accompanied     
them4  ,although more passionately      
longing--he knew not1 he dared not tell 
himself for what--,domenico did not come
 with the curious exaltation of spirits 
of his companion1 all whose antiquarian 
lore had gone to his head1 and who      
really imagined himself to be a genuine 
,pagan engaged in ,pagan rites4 ,for    
,filarete the ceremony was everything2  
for ,domenico it was merely a means1 a  
sort of sacrilegious juggling1 into     
which he had not inquired more          
particularly1 which was to give him the 
object of his wishes at the price of    
great peril to his soul4 ,but when the  

subterranean chamber was filled with a  
cloud of incense1 through which1 in the 
dim yellow light of the lamp1 the naked 
gods and goddesses on the vault1 the    
satyrs and nymphs1 the ,tritons and     
,bacchantes seemed to float in and out  
of sight1 a feeling of awe1 of an       
unknown kind of reverence and rapture1  
began to fill his soul1 and his eyes    
became fixed on the lid of the carved   
sarcophagus--vague images of ,christian 
resurrections mingling with his         
hopes--,would the god appear8           
,filarete1 meanwhile1 had enveloped his 
head in a long linen veil1 and1 after   
washing his hands thrice in a golden    
basin brought for the purpose1 he placed
 some faggots on the sarcophagus1 lit   
them1 and throwing grains of incense and
 of salt alternately into the flames1   
began to chant in an unknown tongue1    
which ,domenico guessed to be ,greek4   
,then beckoning to the painter1 who was 
kneeling1 as at church1 in a corner1 he 
bade him unpack a basket matted over    

with leaves1 whose movements and sounds 
had puzzled ,domenico as he carried it  
down4 ,in great surprise1 and with a    
vague sense of he knew not what1 he     
handed its contents to ,filarete4 ,it   
was a miserable little lamb1 newly born1
 its long1 soft legs tied together1 its 
almost sightless1 pale eyes half-started
 from its sockets4 ,as the humanist took
 it1 it bleated with sudden shrill      
strength1 and ,domenico could not help  
thinking of certain images he had seen  
on monastery walls of the ,good         
,shepherd carrying the lame lamb on his 
shoulders4 ,this was very different4    
,for1 with an odd ferocity1 ,filarete   
placed the miserable young creature on  
the stone before the fire1 and slit its 
throat and chest with a long knife4     
,the god did not appear4 ,they          
extinguished the lamps1 left the carcase
 of the lamb half charred in a pool of  
blood on the stone1 and slowly          
reascended into the daylight1 leaving   
behind them1 in the vaulted chamber1 a  

stifling fume of incense1 of burnt      
flesh1 and mingled damp4  ,up above1    
among the ruins of the ,christian       
church1 where they had left their mules1
 it was cold and sunny1 and the light   
seemed curiously blue1 almost grey and  
dusty1 after the yellow illumination    
below4 ,before them1 interrupted here   
and there by a mass of ruined masonry1  
or a few arches of aqueduct1 waved the  
grey-green1 billowy plain1 where the    
wind1 which rolled the great winter     
cloud-balls overhead1 danced and sang   
with the tall1 dry hemlocks and sere    
white thistles1 shining and rattling    
like skeletons4 ,and on to it seemed to 
descend cloud-mountains1 vague blueness 
and darkness--cloud or hill1 you could  
not tell which--out of whose flank1 ever
 and anon1 a sunbeam conjured up a      
visionary white resplendent city4  ,the 
short winter day was beginning to draw  
in when they approached silently the    
city walls1 solemn with their towers and
 gates1 endless as it seemed1 and       

enclosing1 one felt vaguely1 an endless1
 distant1 invisible city4  ,the sound of
 its bells came as from afar to meet the
 sacrilegious men4   ,,vi  ,the         
culminating sacrilege was yet to come4  
,the place that witnessed it remains    
unchanged--a half-deserted church among 
the silent grass-grown lanes1 the       
crumbling convent walls1 and ill-tended 
vineyards of the ,aventine2 a hill that 
has retained in ,christian times a look 
of its sinister fame in ,pagan ones4    
,among the cypresses1 which seem to     
wander up the hillside1 rises the square
 belfry1 among whose brickwork1 flushed 
in the sunset1 are inlaid discs of      
porphyry torn from some temple pavement1
 and plates of green majolica brought   
from the ,east1 it is said1 by pilgrims 
or ,crusaders4 ,the arum-fringed lane   
widens before the outer wall of the     
church1 overtopped by its triangular    
gable4 ,behind this wall is a yard or   
atrium1 the pavement grass-grown1 the   
walls stained with great patches of     

mildew1 and showing here and there in   
their dilapidation the shaft and capital
 of a bricked-up ,ionic pillar4 ,the    
place tells of centuries of neglect1 of 
the gradual invasion of resistless      
fever2 and it was fitly chosen1 some    
fifty years ago1 for the abode of a     
community of ,trappists4 ,in the reign  
of ,innocent ,,viii4 it was still       
nominally in the hands of certain       
,cistercians2 but the fever had long    
driven these monks to the more wholesome
 end of the hill1 where they had erected
 a smaller church2 and the convent had  
served for years as a fortress of the   
turbulent family of the ,capranicas1 one
 of whose members was always the nominal
 abbot1 with the ,cardinal's hat1 and   
title ,jervase and ,protasius4 ,and now1
 at the end of the fifteenth century1 a 
,cardinal ,ascanio ,capranica1 famous   
for his struggle in magnificence and    
sinfulness with the magnificent and     
sinful young nephews of ,pope ,sixtus1  
had determined to restore the fortified 

monastery1 to combat the fever by       
abundant plantations1 and to make the   
church a monument of his splendour4     
,and1 in order to secure some benefit by
 his own munificence1 he had begun by   
commissioning ,domenico ,neroni to      
design and execute a sepulchre three    
storeys high1 full of carvings1 and     
covered with statues1 so that his soul1 
if sent untimely to heaven1 might not be
 dishonoured by the unworthy            
resting-place of its trusty companion1  
the ,cardinal's handsome and well-tended
 body4  ,this church of ,,ss4 ,jervase  
and ,protasius1 which imitated1 like    
most churches of the early ,christian   
period1 the form of a basilica or court 
of law1 was constructed out of fragments
 of ,pagan edifices1 and occupied the   
site of a ,pagan edifice1 whose columns 
had been employed to carry the roof of  
the church1 or1 when of porphyry or     
serpentine1 had been sawed into discs   
for the pavement4 ,on the slant of the  
hill1 supporting the apse1 encircled by 

pillarets1 is a round mass of masonry1  
overgrown with ivy and ilex scrub1 the  
remains of some antique bath or grotto2 
and under the battlemented walls1 the   
cloistered courts of the convent1 there 
stretches1 it is said1 a network of     
subterranean passages running down to   
the ,tiber4 ,four hundred years ago they
 were not to be discovered if looked    
for1 being completely hidden by the     
fallen masonry and the cypress roots and
 growths of poisonous                   
plants--nightshade1 and hemlock1 and    
green-flowered hellebore2 but wicked    
monks had sometimes been sucked into    
them while digging the ground1 or       
decoyed into their labyrinths by devils4
 ,was it possible that there had        
lingered on through the ages a vague and
 horrified remembrance of those rites1  
the discovery of whose mysterious and   
wide-spread abominations had frozen     
,rome with horror in her most high and  
palmy days2 and was there a connection  
between those neophytes1 wandering with 

blood-stained limbs and dishevelled     
locks among the groves of the ,aventine1
 then rushing to quench their burning   
torches in the ,tiber1 two centuries    
before ,christ1 and the devils who      
troubled the ,benedictines of ,,ss4     
,jervase and ,protasius8 ,these evil    
spirits would appear1 it had been said1 
in the cloisters of the convent1        
processions carrying lights and         
garlands2 and on certain nights1 when   
the monks were in prayer in their cells1
 strange sounds would issue from the    
church itself1 of flutes and timbrels1  
and demon laughter1 and demon voices    
chanting some unknown litany1 and       
clearly aping the mass2 and ,cardinal   
,capranica was blamed by many pious     
persons for his rash intention of       
filling once more the deserted convent1 
and exposing holy men to the wrath of   
such very pertinacious devils4          
,meanwhile mass upon mass was said to   
clear the place of this demoniac        
infection4 ,it was in this church that  

the sacrilege of ,domenico and ,filarete
 rose to its highest1 and that an event 
took place which the men of the         
fifteenth century could scarce find     
words to designate4  ,domenico had grown
 tired of his friend's archological     
impieties4 ,it gave him no satisfaction 
to pour out wine1 burn incense1 arrange 
garlands1 and even cut the throats of   
animals according to a correct ,pagan   
ritual4 ,it was nothing to him that     
,horace and ,ovid and ,tibullus should  
have done alike4 ,he was a good         
,christian1 never doubting for a moment 
the power of the ,blessed ,virgin1 the  
saints1 and even the smallest and       
meanest priest1 nor the heat of         
hell-fire4 ,but he wanted to have the   
secret of antique proportions1 and he   
was convinced that this secret could be 
communicated only by a ,pagan divinity1 
just as certain theological mysteries1  
such as the use of the rosary1 had been 
revealed to the saints by ,christ or the
 ,virgin4 ,the ,pagan gods were devils1 

and to hold communication with devils   
was mortal sin and sure damnation4 ,but 
lots of people communicated with devils 
for much more paltry motives1 for greed 
of gold or love of woman1 and were yet  
saved by the intercession of some       
heavenly patron1 or found it worth while
 not to be saved at all4 ,domenico1 like
 them1 put the question of salvation    
behind him4 ,he might think of that     
afterwards1 when he had possessed       
himself of the proportion of the        
ancients4 ,at all events1 at present he 
was willing to risk everything in order 
to attain that4 ,he was determined to   
see that god of the heathens1 not as he 
had seen him once in the house of       
,messer ,neri ,altoviti1 cut out of     
marble1 but alive1 moving1 speaking2 for
 that was the god4  ,the god was a      
devil4 ,now it is well known that there 
is a way of compelling every devil to   
show himself1 providing you use         
sufficiently strong spells4 ,they had   
sacrificed goats and lambs enough1 also 

doves1 and had burned perfumes1 and     
spilt wine sufficient for one of        
,cardinal ,riario's suppers4 ,it was    
evidently not that sort of sacrifice    
which would rejoice the god or compel   
him to show himself4 ,for weeks and     
weeks ,domenico ruminated over the      
subject4 ,and little by little the      
logical1 inevitable answer dawned upon  
his horrified but determined mind4 ,for 
what was the sacrifice which witches and
 warlocks notoriously offered their     
,master8  ,the place could not be better
 chosen4 ,this church was full1 every   
one knew1 of demons1 who were certainly 
none other than the gods of the heathen1
 as ,tertullian1 ,lactantius1           
,athenagoras1 ,justin ,martyr1 and all  
those other holy doctors had written4   
,it was deserted1 its keys in the hands 
of ,cardinal ,capranica's confidential  
architect and decorator2 and there were 
masses being said every holiday to scare
 the evil spirits4 ,the sacrament was   
frequently left on the altar4  ,all this

 ,domenico expounded frequently to      
,filarete4 ,but ,filarete's classic     
taste did not approve of ,domenico's    
methods1 which savoured of vulgar       
witchcraft2 perhaps also the learned    
man1 who did not want the secret of     
antique proportion1 recoiled from a     
degree of profanity and of danger1 both 
to body and soul1 which his companion   
willingly incurred in such a quest as   
his4 ,so ,filarete demurred for a time1 
until at length his feebler nature took 
fire at ,domenico's determination1 and  
the guilty pair fixed upon the day and  
place for this unspeakable sacrilege4   
,the ,church of ,,ss4 ,jervase and      
,protasius has undergone no change since
 the feast of ,corpus ,christi of the   
year #adhh4 ,the damp that lies in the  
atrium outside1 making the grass and    
poppies sprout round the ,byzantine     
pillar which carries a cross over a     
pine-cone1 has invaded the flat-roofed  
nave and the wide aisles1 separated from
 it by a single colonnade4 ,a greenish  

mildew marks the fissures in the walls1 
rent here and there by landslips and    
earthquakes4 ,the cipolline columns     
carrying the round arches on their      
square capitals are lustreless1 and     
their green-veined marble looks like    
long-buried wood4 ,the mosaic pavement  
stretches its discs and volutes of      
porphyry and serpentine or yellowed     
,parian marble1 a tarnished and uneven  
carpet1 to the greenish-white marble    
steps of the chancel4 ,the mosaics have 
long fallen out of the circle of the    
apse2 and the frescoes1 painted by some 
obscure follower of ,giotto1 have left  
only a green vague stain over the arches
 of the aisle4 ,pictures or statues     
there are none1 and no conspicuous      
sepulchre4 ,only1 over the low entrance1
 a colossal wooden crucifix of the      
thirteenth century hangs at an angle    
from the wall1 a painted ,christ1       
stretching his writhing livid limbs in  
agony opposite the high altar4 ,it was  
in this stately and desolate church1    

under the misty light that pours in     
through the wide windows of grey coarse 
glass1 and on the marble altar1 facing  
that effigy of the dying ,saviour1 that1
 in derision as it were of the miracle  
which the church commemorates on that   
feast-day1 ,domenico and ,filarete were 
about to offer up to the demons ,apollo1
 ,bacchus1 and ,jove the freshly        
consecrated wafer1 the very body and    
blood of ,christ4  ,but an accomplice of
 theirs1 a certain monk well versed in  
magic1 whom they employed in sundry     
details of devil-raising1 on the score  
that they were seeking treasure hidden  
in the church1 had suddenly been seized 
with qualms of conscience4 ,instead of  
appearing at the appointed time alone1  
and bearing certain necessaries of his  
art1 he kept them waiting a full hour1  
until they began their proceedings      
without his assistance4 ,and even as    
,domenico was reaching his companion the
 ostensorium1 which had remained on the 
altar after the morning's mass1 the     

church was surrounded by the officers of
 the ,podest1 on horseback1 and by a    
crowd of monks and priests1 and rabble  
who had followed them4 ,of these        
persons1 not a few affirmed in after    
years1 that1 as they arrived at the     
church door1 they had heard sounds of   
flutes and timbrels1 and mocking songs  
filling the place2 and that the devil1  
dressed in skins and garlands like a    
wild man of the woods1 had cleft the    
roof with his head1 and disappeared with
 many blasphemous yells as they entered4
   ,,vii  ,in those last years of the   
fifteenth century1 ,rome was a city of  
the ,middle ,ages4 ,the cupola of the   
,pantheon1 the circular hulk of the     
,colosseum1 and the twin columns of     
,trajan and ,antoninus projected1 like  
the fantastic antiquities of some fresco
 of ,benozzo ,gozzoli1 above domeless   
church roofs1 battlemented palace walls1
 and innumerable ,gothic belfries and   
feudal towers4 ,in the theatre of       
,marcellus rose the fortress of the     

,orsinis2 against the tower whence      
,nero1 as the legend ran1 had watched   
the city burning1 were clustered the    
fortifications of the ,colonnas2 and in 
every quarter the stern palaces of their
 respective partisans frowned with their
 rough-hewn fronts1 their holes for     
barricade beams1 and hooks for chains4  
,the bridge of ,st4 ,angelo was covered 
with the shops of armourers1 as the old 
bridge of more peaceful ,florence with  
those of silversmiths4 ,walls and towers
 encircled the ,leonine ,city where the 
,pope sat unquietly in the big          
battlemented donjon by the ,sixtine     
,chapel2 and in its midst was still old 
,st4 ,peter's1 half ,lombard1 half      
,byzantine4 ,in ,rome there was no      
industry1 no order1 no safety4 ,through 
its gates rushed raids of ,colonnas and 
,orsinis1 sold to or betrayed by the    
,popes1 from their castles of ,umbria or
 the ,campagna to their castles in town2
 and their feuds meant battles also     
between the citizens who obeyed or      

thwarted them4 ,houses were sacked and  
burnt1 and occasionally razed to the    
ground1 for the ploughshare and the     
salt-sower to go over their site4 ,a few
 years later1 when ,pope ,borgia dredged
 the ,tiber for the body of his son1 the
 boatmen of ,ripetta reported that so   
many bodies were thrown over every night
 that they no longer heeded such        
occurrences4 ,and when1 two centuries   
later1 the ,corsinis dug the foundations
 of their house on the ,longara1 there  
were discovered quantities of human     
bones in what had been the palace of    
,pope della ,rovere's nephew4 ,meanwhile
 ,ghirlandaio and ,perugino were        
painting the walls of the ,sixtine2     
,pinturicchio was designing the blue and
 gold allegorical ceilings of the       
library2 ,bramante building the         
,chancellor's palace1 and the           
,pollaiolas and ,mino da ,fiesole       
carving the tombs in ,st4 ,peter's1     
while learned men translated ,plato and 
imitated ,horace4  ,of this ,rome there 

remains nowadays nothing1 or next to    
nothing4 ,sometimes1 indeed1 looking up 
the green lichened sides of some medival
 tower1 with its hooks for chains1 and  
its holes for beams1 a vague vision     
thereof rises in our mind4 ,and in the  
presence of certain groups by           
,signorelli1 representing murderous     
scuffles or supernatural destruction1 we
 feel as if we had come in contact with 
the other reality of those times1 the   
thing which serene art and literature   
and the love of antiquity have driven   
into the background4 ,but the complete  
vision of the time and place1 the       
certain knowledge of that ,rome of      
,sixtus ,,iv4 and ,innocent ,,viii41 we 
can now no longer grasp1 a dreadful     
phantom passing too rapidly across the  
centuries4  ,it is with this feeling of 
impotence in my attempt to follow the   
thoughts of an illiterate artist of the 
,renaissance1 that ,i prefer to conclude
 this strange story of the quest after  
antique beauty and antique gods by      

quoting a page from one of the barbarous
 chroniclers of medival ,rome4 ,the     
entry in the continuation of            
,infessura's diary is headed ,pictor    
,sacrilegus3--  ,on the #bjth ,july of  
the year of salvation fourteen hundred  
and eighty-eight1 there were placed for 
three days in a cage on high in the     
,campo dei ,fiori1 ,messer ,niccol      
,filarete1 ,canon of ,sancto ,joanne2   
also ,domenico1 the ,volterran1 painter 
and architect to the magnificent        
,cardinal ,ascanio1 and ,frate ,garofalo
 of ,valmontone1 they having been       
discovered in the act of desecrating the
 ,church of ,,ss4 ,jervase and          
,protasius1 and stealing for magic      
purposes the ostensorium and many gold  
chalices and reliquaries with precious  
stones2 and it was ,frate ,garofalo who1
 being versed in witchcraft and treasure
 finding1 was the accomplice of the     
above1 and denounced them on the feast  
of ,corpus ,domini4 ,and the            
twenty-third of the said month of ,july 

they were justiced1 and in this manner4 
,videlicet1 ,filarete and ,domenico1    
having been removed from the cage1 were 
dragged on hurdles as far as the square 
of ,san ,joanni1 and ,frate ,garofalo   
went on an ass1 all of them crowned with
 paper mitres4 ,frate ,garofalo was     
hanged to the elm-tree of the square4   
,of ,filarete and ,domenico1 the right  
hand was chopped off1 after which they  
were burned in the said square4 ,and    
their chopped off right hands were taken
 to the ,capitol and nailed up above the
 gate1 alongside of the ,she-wolf of    
metal4 ,laus ,deo4     ,,valedictory    
,i  ,while gathering together the       
foregoing pages1 written at different   
periods and in different phases of      
thought1 the knowledge has grown on me  
that ,i was saying farewell to some of  
the ambitions and to most of the plans  
of my youth4  ,all writers start with   
the hope of solving a problem or        
establishing a formula1 however         
fragmentary or humble2 and many1 the    

most fortunate1 and probably the most   
useful1 continue to work out their      
program1 or at least to think that they 
do so4 ,life to them is but the         
framework for work2 and that is why they
 manage to leave a fair amount of work  
behind them1--work for other workers to 
employ or to undo4 ,but with some       
persons1 life somehow gets the better of
 work1 becomes1 whether in the form of  
circumstance or of new problems1        
infinitely the stronger2 and scatters   
work1 tossing about such fragments as   
itself1 in its irregular1 irresistible  
fashion1 has torn into insignificance1  
or 7once in a blue moon67 shaped into   
more complete meaning4  ,as regards my  
own case1 ,i began by believing ,i      
should be an historian and a            
philosopher1 as most young people have  
done before me2 then1 coming in contact 
with the concrete miseries of others1   
called social and similar problems1 ,i  
sought to apply some of my historical or
 philosophic lore 7such as it was7 to   

their removal2 and finally1 life having 
manifested itself as offering problems  
7unexpected occurrence67 not merely     
concerning the ,past1 nor even the      
abstract ,present1 but respecting my own
 comfort and discomfort1 ,i have found  
myself at last wondering in what manner 
thoughts and impressions could make the 
world1 the ,past and ,present1 the near 
and the remote1 more satisfying and     
useful to myself4 ,circumstances of     
various kinds1 and particularly         
ill-health1 have thus put me1 although a
 writer1 into the position of a reader2 
and have made me ask myself1 as ,i      
collected these fragments of my former  
studies1 what can the study of history1 
particularly of the history of art and  
of other manifestations of past         
conditions of soul1 do for us in the    
present8  ,all knowledge is bound to be 
useful4 ,apart from this truism1 ,i     
believe that all study of past          
conditions and activities will          
eventually result1 if not in the better 

management of present conditions and    
activities 7as all partisan historians  
have hoped1 from ,machiavelli to        
,macaulay71 at all events in a greater  
familiarity with the various kinds of   
character expressed in historical events
 and in the way of looking at them2 for 
even if we cannot learn to guide and    
employ such multifold forces as make1   
for instance1 a ,french revolution1 we  
may learn to use for the best the       
individual minds and temperaments of    
those who describe them3 a ,carlyle1 a  
,michelet1 a ,taine1 are natural forces 
also1 which may serve or may damage us4 
,moreover1 ,i hold by the belief1       
expressed years ago1 in my previous     
volume of ,renaissance studies1 to wit1 
that historical reading 7and in         
historical ,i include the history of    
thoughts and feelings as much as of     
events and persons7 is a useful exercise
 for our sympathies1 bringing us wider  
and more wholesome notions of justice   
and charity4 ,and ,i feel sure that     

other uses for historical studies could 
be pointed out by other persons1 apart  
from the satisfaction they afford to    
those who pursue them1 which1 considered
 merely as so much spiritual gymnastics1
 or cricket1 or football1 or            
alpineering1 is surely not to be        
despised4  ,but now1 having dropped long
 since out of the ranks of those who    
study in order to benefit others1 or    
even to benefit only themselves1 ,i     
would say a few words about the         
advantage which mere readers1 as        
distinguished from writers1 may get from
 familiarity with the ,past4  ,this     
advantage is that they may find in the  
,past not merely a fine field for       
solitary and useless delusions 7though  
that also seems necessary71 but an      
additional world for real companionship 
and congenial activity4 ,our individual 
activities and needs of this kind are   
innumerable1 and of infinite delicate   
variety2 and there is reason to suppose 
that the place in which our lot is cast 

does not necessarily fit them to        
perfection4 ,for things in this world   
are very roughly averaged2 and although 
averaging is a useful1 rapid way of     
despatching business1 it does           
undoubtedly waste a great deal which is 
too good for wasting4 ,hence1 it seems  
to me1 the need which many of us feel1  
which most of us would feel1 if secured 
of food and shelter1 of spending a      
portion of their life of the spirit in  
places and climates beyond that ,river  
,oceanus which bounds the land of the   
living4  ,as ,i write these words1 ,i am
 conscious that this will strike many   
readers as the expression of a superfine
 and selfish dilettantism1 arising no   
doubt from morbid lack of sympathy with 
the world into which ,heaven has put us4
 ,what6 become absentees from the poor1 
much troubled ,present2 turn your backs 
to ,realities1 become idle strollers in 
the ,past8 ,and why not1 dear friends8  
why not recognise the need for a        
holiday8 why not admit1 just because    

work has to be done and loads to be     
borne1 that we cannot grind and pant on 
without interruption8 ,nay1 that the    
bearing of the load1 the grinding of the
 work1 is useless save to diminish the  
total grinding and panting on this      
earth4 ,moreover1 ,i maintain that we   
have but a narrow conception of life if 
we confine it to the functions which are
 obviously practical1 and a narrow      
conception of reality if we exclude from
 it the ,past4 ,and not because the     
,past has been1 has actually existed    
outside some one1 but because it may1   
and often does1 actually exist within   
ourselves4 ,the things in our mind1 due 
to the mind's constitution and its      
relation with the universe1 are1 after  
all1 realities2 and realities to count  
with1 as much as the tables and chairs1 
and hats and coats1 and other things    
subject to gravitation outside it4 ,it  
would seem1 indeed1 as if the chief     
outcome of the spiritualising philosophy
 which maintains the immaterial and     

independent quality of mind had been to 
make mind1 the contents of our          
consciousness1 ideas1 images1 and       
feelings1 into something quite separate 
from this real material universe1 and   
hence unworthy of practical             
consideration4 ,but granted that mind is
 not a sort of independent and foreign  
entity1 we must admit that what exists  
in it has a place in reality1 and       
requires1 like the rest of reality1 to  
be dealt with4 ,but to return to my     
thesis3 that we require occasionally to 
live in the ,past 7and ,i shall go on to
 state that it may be a ,past of our own
 making72 ,do we not require to travel  
in foreign parts which know us not1 to  
sojourn for our welfare in cities where 
we can neither elect members nor        
exercise professions1 but whence we     
bring back1 not merely wider views1 but 
sounder nerves1 tempers more serene and 
elastic8 ,nor is this all4 ,we think    
poorly of a man or woman who1 besides   
practical cases for self or others1 does

 not require to come in contact also    
with the tangible1 breathable1 visible1 
audible universe for its own sake2      
require to wander in fields and on      
moors1 to steep in sunshine or be       
battered by winds1 for the sake of a    
certain specific emotion of             
participation in1 of closer union with1 
the universal4 ,now the ,past--the joys 
and sufferings of the men long dead1    
their efforts1 ideals1 emotions1 nay1   
their very sensations and temperaments  
as registered in words or expressed in  
art1 are but another side of the        
universe1 of that universal life1 to    
participate ever deeper in which is the 
condition of our strength and serenity1 
the imperious necessity of our ever     
giving1 ever taking soul4  ,and so1 for 
our greater nobility and happiness1 we  
require1 all of us1 to live to some     
extent in the ,past1 as to live to some 
extent in what we significantly call    
nature4 ,we require1 as we require      
mountain air or sea scents1 hayfields or

 wintry fallows1 sun1 storm1 or rain1   
each individual according to individual 
subtle affinities1 certain emotions1    
ideals1 persons1 or works of art from   
out of the ,past4 ,for one it will be   
,socrates2 for another ,st4 ,francis2   
for every one something somewhat        
different1 or at all events something   
differently conceived and differently   
felt3 some portion of the universe in   
time1 as of the universe in space1 which
 answers in closest and most intimate   
way to the complexion and habits of that
 individual soul4   ,,ii  ,the          
satisfaction which it can bring to every
 individual soul3 this is1 therefore1   
one of the uses of the ,past to the     
,present1 and surely not one of the     
smallest4 ,it is1 ,i venture to insist1 
the special1 the essential use of all   
art and all poetry2 any additional      
knowledge of ,nature's proceedings1 any 
additional discipline of thought and    
observation which may accrue in the     
study of art as an historic or          

psychological phenomenon being1 after   
all1 valuable eventually for the amount 
of such mere satisfaction of the spirit 
as that additional knowledge or         
additional discipline can conduce       
towards4 ,scientific results are        
important for the maintenance of life1  
doubtless2 but the sense of             
satisfaction1 whether simple or complex1
 high or low1 is the sign that the      
processes we call life are being        
fulfilled and not thwarted2 so1 since   
satisfaction is no such contemptible    
thing1 why not allow art to furnish it  
unmixed8  ,i am sure to be              
misunderstood4 ,i do not in the least   
mean to imply that art can best be      
appreciated with the least trouble4 ,the
 mere fact that the pleasure of a       
faculty is proportioned to its activity 
negatives that2 and the fact that the   
richness1 fulness1 and hence also the   
durability1 of all artistic pleasure    
answers to the amount of our attention3 
the mine1 the ore1 will yield1 other    

things equal1 according as we dig1 and  
wash1 and smelt1 and separate to the    
last possibility of separation what we  
want from what we do not want4  ,the    
historic or psychological study of art  
does thus undoubtedly increase our      
familiarity1 and hence our enjoyment4   
,the mere scientific inquiry into the   
difference between originals and copies1
 into the connection between master and 
pupil1 makes us alive to the special    
qualities which can delight us4 ,as long
 as we looked in a manner so slovenly   
that a spurious ,botticelli could pass  
for a genuine one1 we could evidently   
never benefit by the special quality1   
the additional excellence of            
,botticelli's own work4 ,and similarly  
in the case of archology4 ,indeed1 in   
the few cases where ,i have myself      
hazarded an hypothesis on some point of 
artistic history1 as1 for instance1     
regarding the respective origin of      
antique and medival sculpture1 ,i am    
inclined to think that the chief use 7if

 any at all7 of my work1 will be to make
 my readers more sensitive to the       
specific pleasure they may get from     
,praxiteles or from ,mino da ,fiesole1  
than they could have been when the works
 of both were so little understood as to
 be judged by one another's standards4  
,but to return4 ,it seems as if at      
present the development1 the contagion1 
so to speak1 of scientific methods      
applied to art were making people forget
 a little that art1 besides being1 like 
everything else1 the passive object of  
scientific treatment1 is 7what most     
other things are not7 an active1        
positive1 special factor of pleasure2   
and that1 therefore1 save to special    
students1 the greater1 more efficacious 
form of art should occupy an immensely  
larger share of attention than the      
lesser and more inefficient4 ,we are    
made1 nowadays1 to look at too much     
mediocre art on the score of its        
historical value2 we are kept too long  
in contemplation of pictures and statues

 which cannot give much pleasure1 on the
 score that they led to or proceeded    
from other pictures or statues which    
can4  ,as regards ,greek sculpture1 the 
insistance on archaic forms is becoming1
 if ,i may express my own feelings1 a   
perfect bore4 ,why should we be kept in 
the kitchen tasting half-cooked stuff   
out of ladles1 when most of us have     
barely time to eat our fully cooked     
dinner1 which we like and thrive on1 in 
peace8 ,similarly with such painters as 
are mainly precursors4 ,they are taking 
up too much of our attention2 and one   
might sometimes be tempted to think that
 the only use of great artists1 like the
 only functions of those patriarchs who 
kept begetting one another1 was to      
produce other great artists3 ,giotto to 
produce eventually ,masaccio1 ,masaccio 
through various generations             
,michelangelo and ,raphael1 and         
,michelangelo and ,raphael1 through even
 more1 ,manet and ,degas1 who in their  
turn doubtless dutifully4444 ,meanwhile 

why should art have gone on evolving1   
artists gone on making filiations of    
schools1 if art1 if artists1 if schools 
of artists had not answered an          
imperious1 undying wish for the special 
pleasures which painting can give8      
,therefore it seems to me that1         
desirable for all reasons as may be the 
study of art1 the knowledge of          
filiations and influences1 it is still  
more desirable that each of us should   
find out some painter whom he can care  
for individually2 and that all of us    
should find out certain painters who    
can1 almost infallibly1 give immense    
pleasure to all of us2 painters who1 had
 they been produced out of nothingness  
and been followed by nobody1 would yet  
stand in the most important relation in 
which an artist can be3 the relation of 
being beloved by the whole world1 or    
even by a few solitary individuals4     
,for this reason let not the mere       
reader1 who comes to art not for work1  
but for refreshment1 let not the mere   

reader 7,i call him reader1 to note his 
passive1 leisurely character7 be vexed  
with too much study of ,florentine and  
,paduan precursors1 but go straight to  
the masters1 whom those useful and      
dreary persons rendered possible by     
their grinding4 ,our ancestors1 or      
rather those cardinals and superb lords 
with whom we have neither spiritual nor 
temporal relationship1 who made the     
great collections of the seventeenth and
 eighteenth centuries1 placing statues  
under delicate colonnades and green ilex
 hedges1 and hanging pictures in        
oak-panelled corridors and tapestried   
guard-rooms1 were occasionally mistaken 
in thinking that a ,roman emperor much  
restored1 or a chalky1 sprawling ,guido 
,reni1 could afford lasting sthetic     
pleasure2 but1 bating such errors1 were 
they not nearer good sense than we      
moderns1 who arrange pictures and       
statues as we might minerals or herbs in
 a museum1 and who1 for instance1 insist
 that poor tired people1 longing for a  

little beauty1 should carefully examine 
the works of ,castagno1 of ,rosselli1   
and of that artist1 so interesting as a 
specimen of the minimum of talent1 ,neri
 di ,bicci8 ,they were unscientific1    
those lords and cardinals1 and          
desperately pleasure-seeking2 but       
surely1 surely they were more sensible  
than we4  ,connected with this fact1 and
 to be borne in mind by those not called
 upon to elucidate art scientifically1  
is the further fact1 which ,i have      
analogically pointed out1 when ,i said  
that every individual has in the ,past  
affinities1 possibilities of spiritual  
satisfaction differing somewhat from    
those of every other4 ,it is well that  
we should try to enlarge those          
possibilities2 and we must never make up
 our mind that a picture1 statue1 piece 
of music or poetry1 says little to us   
until we have listened to its say4 ,but 
although we strive to make new friends1 
let us waste no further time on such    
persons as we have vainly tried to make 

friends of2 and let each of us1 in      
heaven's name1 cherish to the utmost his
 natural affinities4 ,there are persons 
to whom1 for instance1 ,botticelli can  
never be what he truly is to some of    
their neighbours3 the very quality which
 gives such marvellous poignancy of     
pleasure to certain temperaments causing
 almost discomfort to others2 and       
similarly about many other artists1     
representing very special conditions of 
being1 and appealing to special         
conditions in consequence4 ,high ,alpine
 air1 sea-water1 ,roman melting westerly
 winds1 so vitalising1 so soothing to   
some folk1 are mere worry1 or fever1 or 
lassitude to others1 without its being  
correct to say that one set of persons  
is healthy and the other morbid3 each   
being1 in truth1 healthy or morbid just 
in proportion as it realises its        
necessities of existence1 fitting       
equally into the universe providing it  
be fitted each into the proper piece    
thereof4  ,on the other hand 7and this1 

rather than filiations of schools and   
influences of artistic milieus1 it were 
well we should know71 it becomes daily  
more empirically certain1 and will some 
day doubtless become scientifically     
obvious1 that there are works of art    
which awaken such emotion that they can 
be delectable only to creatures with    
instincts out of gear and perception    
upside down2 while there are others1    
infinitely more plentiful1 which1 in    
greater or lesser degree1 must delight  
all persons who are sane1 as all such   
are delighted by fine weather1 normal   
exercise1 and kindly sympathy2 and1 vice
 vers1 that as these wholesome works of 
art merely bore or actually distress the
 poor morbid exceptions1 so the         
unwholesome ones sicken or harrow the   
sound generality2 the world of art1     
moreover1 like every other world1 being 
best employed in keeping alive its      
sound1 not its unsound1 clients4  ,such 
works of art1 such artists of widest    
wholesome appealingness1 there are in   

all periods of artistic development2    
more in certain fortunate moments1 say  
the ,periklean age and the early        
sixteenth century1 than in others2 and  
most perhaps in certain specially       
favoured regions--in ,attica during     
,antiquity1 and during painting times1  
in the happy ,venetian country4 ,these  
we all know of2 but by the grace of     
,nature1 which creates men occasionally 
so fortunately balanced that their work1
 learned or unlearned1 must needs be    
fortunately balanced also1 they arise   
sometimes in the midst of mere artistic 
worry and vexation of spirit1 or of     
artist bleakness1 perfect like the      
almond and peach trees1 which blossom1  
white and pink1 on the frost-bitten     
green among the sapless vines of wintry 
,tuscan hills2 and to some natures1     
doubtless1 these are more pleasant and  
health-giving than more mature or mellow
 summer or autumnal loveliness4 ,but1 as
 ,i have said1 each must find his own   
closest affinities in art and history as

 in friendship4   ,,iii  ,there are some
 more things1 and more important1 still 
to be said1 from the reader's standpoint
 rather than the writer's1 about the    
influence on our lives of the ,past and 
of its art1 and more particularly of the
 vague period called the ,renaissance4  
,when the ,renaissance began to attract 
attention1 some twenty or twenty-five   
years ago1 there happened among ,english
 historians and writers on art1 and     
among their readers1 something very     
similar to what had happened1           
apparently1 when the ,englishmen of the 
sixteenth century first came in contact 
with the ,italian ,renaissance itself1  
or whatever remained of it4 ,their      
conscience was sickened1 their          
imagination hag-ridden1 by the discovery
 of so much beauty united to so much    
corruption2 and1 among our latter-day   
students of the ,renaissance1 there     
became manifest the same morbid         
pre-occupation1 the same exaggerated    
repulsion1 which is but inverted        

attraction1 which were rife among the   
playwrights who wrote of ,avengers and  
,atheists1 ,giovannis and ,annabellas1  
,brachianos and ,corombonas1 and other  
,white ,devils1 as old ,webster         
picturesquely put it1 of ,italy4        
,indeed1 the second discovery of the    
,renaissance by ,englishmen had         
spiritual consequences so similar to    
those of the first1 that in an essay    
written fifteen years ago ,i analysed   
the feelings of the ,elizabethan        
playwrights towards ,italian things in  
order to vent the intense discomfort of 
spirit which ,i shared assuredly with   
students older and more competent than  
myself4  ,this kind of feeling has      
passed away among writers1 together with
 much of the fascination of the         
,renaissance itself4 ,but it has left1  
,i see1 vague traces in the mind of     
readers1 rendering the ,renaissance a   
little distasteful 7and no wonder7 to   
the majority2 or worse1 a little too    
congenial to an unsound minority2 worst 

of all1 tarnishing a little the fair    
fame of ,art2 and as a writer now turned
 reader1 ,i am anxious to deliver1 to   
the best of my powers1 other readers    
from this perhaps inevitable but false  
and unprofitable view of such matters4  
,the conscience of writers on history   
and art has long become quite           
comfortable about the ,renaissance2 and 
the ,websterian or 7in some cases ,john 
,fordian7 phenomenon of twenty years ago
 been forgotten as a piece of childish  
morbidness4 ,does this mean that the    
conscience has become hardened1 that    
evil has ceased to repel us1 or that    
beauty has been accepted calmly as a    
pleasant and necessary1 but somewhat    
immoral thing8 ,very far from it4 ,our  
conscience has become quieter1 not      
because it has grown more callous1 but  
because it has become more healthily    
sensitive1 more perceptive of many      
sides1 instead of only one side of life4
 ,for with experience and maturity there
 surely comes1 to every one of us in his

 own walk of life1 a growing1 at length 
an intuitive sense that evil is a thing 
incidentally to fight1 but not to think 
very much about1 because if it is evil1 
it is in so far sporadic1 deciduous1 and
 eminently barren2 while good1 that is  
to say1 soundness1 harmony of feeling1  
thought1 and action with themselves1    
with others' feeling1 thought1 and      
action1 and with the great eternities1  
is organic1 fruitful and useful1 as well
 as delightful to contemplate4 ,hence   
that the evil of past ages should not   
concern us1 save in so far as the       
understanding thereof may teach us to   
diminish the evil of the ,present4 ,in  
any case1 that evil must be handled not 
with terror1 which enervates and        
subjects to contagion1 but with the busy
 serenity of the physician1 who studies 
disease for the sake of health1 and eats
 his wholesome food after washing his   
hands1 confident in the ultimate        
wholesomeness of nature4  ,and in such  
frame of mind the corruption of the     

,renaissance leaves us calm1 and we know
 we had better turn our backs on it1 and
 get from the ,renaissance only what was
 good4 ,only1 if we are physicians1 or  
more correctly 7since in a private      
capacity we all are7 only when we are   
physicians1 must we handle the          
unwholesome4 ,meanwhile1 if we wish to  
be sound1 let us fill our soul with     
images and emotions of good2 we shall   
tackle evil1 when need be1 only the     
better4 ,and here1 by the way1 let me   
open a parenthesis to say that1 of the  
good we moderns may get from occasional 
journeys into the ,past1 there is a fine
 example in our imaginary and emotional 
commerce with ,st4 ,francis and his     
joyous theology4 ,for while other times1
 our own among them1 have given us      
loftier morality and severer good sense1
 no period save that of ,st4 ,francis   
could have given us a blitheness of soul
 so vivifying and so cleansing4 ,for the
 essence of his teaching1 or rather the 
essence of his personality1 was the     

trust that serenity and joyfulness must 
be incompatible with evil2 that simple1 
spontaneous happiness is1 even like the 
air and the sunshine in which his       
beloved brethren the birds flew about   
and sang1 the most infallible antidote  
to evil1 and the most sovereign         
disinfectant4 ,and because we require   
such doctrine1 such personal conviction1
 for the better living of our lives1 we 
must1 even as to better climates1       
journey forth occasionally into that    
distant ,past of medival ,italy2 and as 
to the ,ezzelinos1 ,borgias1 and        
,riarios1 and the foul-mouthed          
humanists1 good heavens6 why should we  
sicken ourselves with the thought of    
this long dead and done for abomination8
  ,so much for the history of the       
,renaissance and the good it can be to  
us4 ,now as to the art4 ,that more      
organic mode of feeling and thinking    
which results in active maturity1 from  
the ever-increasing connections between 
our individual soul and the surrounding 

world2 that same intuition which told us
 that historic evil was no subject for  
contemplation1 does also admonish us    
never to be suspicious of true beauty1  
of thoroughly delightful art4 ,nay1     
beauty and art in any case2 for though  
beauty may be adulterated1 and art      
enslaved to something not itself1 be    
sure that the element of beauty1 the    
activity of art1 so far as they are     
themselves specific1 are far above      
suspicion even in the most suspicious   
company4 ,for even if beauty is united  
to perverse fashions1 and art 7as with  
,baudelaire and the decadents7 employed 
to adorn the sentiments of maniacs and  
gaol-birds1 the beauty and the art      
remain sound2 and if we must needs put  
them behind us1 on account of too       
inextricable a fusion1 we should        
remember it is as we sometimes throw    
away noble ore1 for lack of skill to    
separate it from a base alloy4 ,as      
regards the nightmare anomaly of perfect
 art arisen in times of moral           

corruption1 those unconscious analogies 
,i have spoken of1 and which perhaps are
 our most cogent reasons1 have taught us
 that such anomalies are but nightmares 
and horrid delusions4 ,for1 taking the  
phenomenon historically1 we shall see   
that although art has arisen in periods 
of stress and change1 and therefore of  
moral anarchy1 it has never arisen among
 the immoral classes nor to serve any   
immoral use3 the apparent anomaly in the
 ,renaissance1 for instance1 was not an 
anomaly1 but a coincidence of contrary  
movements3 a materially prosperous1     
intellectually innovating epoch1        
producing on the one hand moral anarchy1
 on the other artistic perfection1      
connected not as cause and effect1 but  
as coincidence1 the one being the       
drawback1 the other the advantage1 of   
that particular phase of being4 ,the    
,malatestas and ,borgias1 of whom we    
have heard too much1 did not employ     
,alberti and ,pier della ,francesca1    
,pinturicchio and ,bramante1 to satisfy 

their convict wickedness1 but to satisfy
 their artistic taste1 which1 in so far1
 was perfectly sound1 as various others 
among their faculties1 their eye and    
ear1 and sense of cause and effect1 were
 apparently sound also4 ,and the        
architecture of ,alberti1 the           
decorations of ,pinturicchio1 remain as 
spotless of all contact with their evil 
instincts as the hills they may have    
looked at1 the sea they may have        
listened to1 the eternal verity that two
 and two make four1 which had doubtless 
passed through their otherwise badly    
inhabited minds4 ,and1 moreover1 the sea
 is still sonorous1 the mountains are   
still hyacinth blue1 and the buildings  
and frescoes still noble1 while the rest
 of those disagreeable mortals' cravings
 and strivings are gone1 and on the     
whole were best forgotten4  ,but there  
is another side of this same question1  
and of it we are admonished1 as it seems
 to me1 still louder by our growing     
intellectual instincts--those instincts1

 let us remember1 which do but represent
 whatever has been congruous and uniform
 in repeated experience4 ,art is a much 
greater and more cosmic thing than the  
mere expression of man's thoughts or    
opinions on any one subject1 of man's   
attitude towards his neighbour or       
towards his country1 much as all this   
concerns us4 ,art is the expression of  
man's life1 of his mode of being1 of his
 relations with the universe1 since it  
is1 in fact1 man's inarticulate answer  
to the universe's unspoken message4     
,hence it represents not the details of 
his existence1 which1 more's the pity1  
are rarely what they should be1 whether 
in thought or action1 but the bulk of   
his existence1 when that bulk is        
unusually sound4 ,this clause contains  
the whole philosophy of art4 ,for art is
 the outcome of a surplus of human      
energy1 the expression of a state of    
vital harmony1 striving for and partly  
realising a yet greater energy1 a more  
complete harmony in one sphere or       

another of man's relations with the     
universe4 ,now if evil is a non-vital1  
deciduous1 and sterile phenomenon par   
excellence1 art must be necessarily     
opposed to it1 and opposed in proportion
 to art's vigour4 ,while1 on the other  
hand1 the seeking1 the realisation of   
greater harmony1 whether harmony        
visible1 audible1 thinkable1 and        
livable1 is as necessarily opposed to   
anomaly and perversity as the great     
healthinesses of air and sunshine are   
opposed to bodily disease4 ,hence1 in   
whatever company we find art1 even as in
 whatever company we find bodily health 
and vigour1 let us understand that in so
 far as truly art1 it is good and a     
source of good4 ,let us never waver in  
our faith in art1 for in so doing we    
should be losing 7what1 alas6 ,puritan  
contemners of art1 and decadent defilers
 thereof1 are equally doing7 much of our
 faith in nature and much of our faith  
in man4 ,for art is the expression of   
the harmonies of nature1 conceived and  

incubated by the harmonious instincts of
 man4  ,i have given the influence of   
,st4 ,francis as an example of what     
added strength our modern soul may get  
by a sojourn in the ,past4 ,what our    
soul may get of similar but more sober  
joy may be shown by another example from
 that wonderful ,umbrian district1 one  
of the earth's oases of spiritual rest  
and refreshment4 ,among all the sane and
 satisfying art of the ,renaissance1    
,umbria1 on the whole1 has surely grown 
for us the highest and the holiest4 ,i  
am not speaking of the fact that        
,perugino painted saints in devout      
contemplation1 nor of their type of face
 and expression4 ,whatever his people   
might be doing1 or if they were not     
people at all1 but variations only of   
his little slender trees or distant     
domes and steeples1 his art would have  
been equally high and holy4 ,and this   
because of its effect1 direct1          
unreasoning1 on our spirit1 making us1  
while we look1 live with a deeper1 more 

devoutly joyful life4 ,what the man     
,perugino was1 in his finite dealings   
with his clients and neighbours1 has    
mattered nothing in the painting of     
these pictures and frescoes2 still less 
what samples of conduct he was shown by 
the ephemeral magnificos who bought his 
works4  ,the tenderness and strength of 
the medival ,italian temper 7as shown in
 ,dante when he is human1 but above all 
in ,francis of ,assisi7 has been working
 through generations toward these       
paintings1 interpreting in its spirit1  
selecting and emphasising for its       
meaning the country in all the world    
most naturally fit to express it2 and   
thus in these paintings we have the     
incomparable visible manifestation of a 
perfect mood3 that wide pale shimmering 
valley1 circular like a temple1 and     
domed by the circular vault of sky1     
really turned1 for our feelings1 into a 
spiritual church1 wherein not merely    
saints meditate and ,madonnas kneel1 but
 ourselves in deepest devout happiness4 

,,iv  ,thoughts such as these bring with
 them the memory of the master we have  
recently lost1 of the master who1 in the
 midst of sthetical anarchy1 taught us  
once more1 and with subtle and solemn   
efficacy1 the old ,platonic and         
,goethian doctrine of the affinity      
between artistic beauty and human       
worthiness4  ,the spiritual evolution of
 the late ,walter ,pater--with whose    
name ,i am proud to conclude my second1 
as with it ,i began my first book on    
,renaissance matters--had been          
significantly similar to that of his own
 ,marius4 ,he began as an sthete1 and   
ended as a moralist4 ,by faithful and   
self-restraining cultivation of the     
sense of harmony1 he appears to have    
risen from the perception of visible    
beauty to the knowledge of beauty of the
 spiritual kind1 both being expressions 
of the same perfect fittingness to an   
ever more intense and various and       
congruous life4  ,such an evolution1    
which is1 in the highest meaning1 an    

sthetic phenomenon in itself1 required a
 wonderful spiritual endowment and an   
unflinchingly discriminating habit4 ,for
 ,walter ,pater started by being above  
all a writer1 and an sthete in the very 
narrow sense of twenty years ago3 an    
sthete of the school of ,mr4            
,swinburne's ,essays1 and of the type   
still common on the ,continent4 ,the    
cultivation of sensations1 vivid        
sensations1 no matter whether healthful 
or unhealthful1 which that school       
commended1 was1 after all1 but a        
theoretic and probably unconscious      
disguise for the cultivation of         
something to be said in a new way1 which
 is the danger of all persons who regard
 literature as an end1 and not as a     
means1 feeling in order that they may   
write1 instead of writing because they  
feel4 ,and of this ,mr4 ,pater's first  
and famous book was a very clear proof4 
,exquisite in technical quality1 in rare
 perception and subtle suggestion1 it   
left1 like all similar books1 a sense of

 caducity and barrenness1 due to the    
intuition of all sane persons that only 
an active synthesis of preferences and  
repulsions1 what we imply in the terms  
character and moral1 can have real      
importance in life1 affinity with       
life--be1 in short1 vital2 and that the 
yielding to1 nay1 the seeking for1      
variety and poignancy of experience1    
must result in a crumbling away of all  
such possible unity and efficiency of   
living4 ,but even as we find in the     
earliest works of a painter1 despite the
 predominance of his master's style1    
indications already of what will expand 
into a totally different personality1 so
 even in this earliest book1 examined   
retrospectively1 it is easy to find the 
characteristic germs of what will       
develop1 extrude all foreign admixture1 
knit together congruous qualities1 and  
give us presently the highly personal   
synthesis of ,marius and the ,studies on
 ,plato4  ,these characteristic germs   
may be defined1 ,i think1 as the        

recurrence of impressions and images    
connected with physical sanity and      
daintiness2 of aspiration after         
orderliness1 congruity1 and one might   
almost say hierarchy2 moreover1 a       
certain exclusiveness1 which is not the 
contempt of the craftsman for the       
bourgeois1 but the aversion of the      
priest for the profane uninitiated4     
,some day1 perhaps1 a more scientific   
study of sthetic phenomena will explain 
the connection which we all feel between
 physical sanity and purity and the     
moral qualities called by the same      
names2 but even nowadays it might have  
been prophesied that the man who harped 
upon the clearness and livingness of    
water1 upon the delicate bracingness of 
air1 who experienced so passionate a    
preference for the whole gamut1 the     
whole palette1 of spring1 of temperate  
climates and of youth and childhood2 a  
person who felt existence in the terms  
of its delicate vigour and its          
restorative austerity1 was bound to     

become1 like ,plato1 a teacher of       
self-discipline and self-harmony4       
,indeed1 who can tell whether the       
teachings of ,mr4 ,pater's maturity--the
 insistance on scrupulously disciplined 
activity1 on cleanness and clearness of 
thought and feeling1 on the harmony     
attainable only through moderation1 the 
intensity attainable only through       
effort--who can tell whether this       
abstract part of his doctrine would     
affect1 as it does1 all kindred spirits 
if the mood had not been prepared by    
some of those descriptions of visible   
scenes--the spring morning above the    
,catacombs1 the ,valley of ,sparta1 the 
paternal house of ,marius1 and that     
temple of sculapius with its shining    
rhythmical waters--which attune our     
whole being1 like the music of the ,lady
 in ,comus1 to modes of sober certainty 
of waking bliss8  ,this inborn affinity 
for refined wholesomeness made ,mr4     
,pater the natural exponent of the      
highest sthetic doctrine--the search for

 harmony throughout all orders of       
existence4 ,it gave the nucleus of what 
was his soul's synthesis1 his system 7as
 ,emerson puts it7 of rejection and     
acceptance4 ,supreme craftsman as he    
was1 it protected him from the          
craftsman's delusion--rife under the    
inappropriate name of art for art's sake
 in these uninstinctive1 over-dextrous  
days--that subtle treatment can dignify 
all subjects equally1 and that          
expression1 irrespective of the         
foregoing impression in the artist and  
the subsequent impression in the        
audience1 is the aim of art4 ,standing  
as he did1 as all the greatest artists  
and thinkers 7and he was both7 do1 in a 
definite1 inevitable relation to the    
universe--the equation between himself  
and it--he was utterly unable to turn   
his powers of perception and expression 
to idle and irresponsible exercises2 and
 his conception of art1 being the       
outcome of his whole personal mode of   
existence1 was inevitably one of art1   

not for art's sake1 but of art for the  
sake of life--art as one of the         
harmonious functions of existence4      
,harmonious1 and in a sense harmonising4
 ,for1 as ,i have said1 he rose from the
 conception of physical health and      
congruity to the conception of health   
and congruity in matters of the spirit2 
the very thirst for healthiness1 which  
means congruity1 and congruity which    
implies health1 forming the vital and   
ever-expanding connection between the   
two orders of phenomena4 ,two orders1   
did ,i say8 ,surely to the intuition of 
this artist and thinker1 the fundamental
 unity--the unity between man's         
relations with external nature1 with his
 own thoughts and with others'          
feelings--stood revealed as the secret  
of the highest sthetics4  ,this which we
 guess at as the completion of ,walter  
,pater's message1 alas6 must remain for 
ever a matter of surmise4 ,the          
completion1 the rounding of his         
doctrine1 can take place only in the    

grateful appreciation of his readers4   
,we have been left with unfinished      
systems1 fragmentary1 sometimes         
enigmatic1 utterances4 ,let us meditate 
their wisdom and vibrate with their     
beauty2 and1 in the words of the prayer 
of ,socrates to the ,nymphs and to ,pan1
 ask for beauty in the inward soul1 and 
congruity between the inner and the     
outer man2 and reflect in such manner   
the gifts of great art and of great     
thought in our soul's depths4 ,for art  
and thought arise from life2 and to     
life1 as principle of harmony1 they must
 return4   ,many years ago1 in the      
fulness of youth and ambition1 ,i was   
allowed1 by him whom ,i already         
reverenced as a master1 to write the    
name of ,walter ,pater on the flyleaf of
 a book which embodied my beliefs and   
hopes as a writer4 ,and now1 seeing     
books from the point of view of the     
reader1 ,i can find no fitter ending to 
this present volume than to express what
 all we readers have gained1 and lost1  

alas6 in this great master4  ,,the ,,end
  ,printed by ,,ballantyne1 ,,hanson    
,,co4 ,edinburgh and ,london            
,,transcriber',s ,,note  ,the following 
changes have been made to the text3     
and will bare 74447 new       and will  
bear 74447 new  spiritual wonders       
spiritual wonders   per speculum et     
nigmata      per speculum in nigmate    
,in was in this church that    ,it was  
in this church that