Pietro Vannucci, called Perugino

The "Ascension" altar-piece is the first one that we have to consider of that group of Perugino's altar-pieces which have been divided, the component parts being scattered throughout Europe. To this division and scattering fuller attention is given in the next chapter, and it will suffice here to state that the centre part is at Lyons, the lunette at St. Gervais, Paris, the predella in three panels at Rouen, and the surrounding saints divided, three in the Vatican Gallery and five in the church of S. Pietro, where at one time the complete work rested. The picture at Borgo San Sepolcro is usually spoken of as a replica of the centre piece of this great picture, but I am strongly disposed to take an opposite view of the case.

Vasari records the painting of the Borgo picture, which was, he says, "executed for the Abbot Simone de' Graziani and transported to the church of San Gilio at Borgo on the backs of porters at very heavy cost." He also records the painting of the picture for S. Pietro, naming it almost at the close of his biographical notes on the artist; and of this picture he says: "The whole of it is replete with evidences of thought and care, insomuch that it is one of the best paintings in oil executed by Pietro in Perugia." It is quite impossible to accept the chronology Vasari gives, as he mixes up dates in the most hopeless confusion; but in this instance I think he is right in putting the Borgo picture before the Lyons one rather than vice versâ.

The picture at Borgo is in bad condition: the one at Lyons has been transferred to canvas and very much repainted, and still shows signs of two vertical splits in the panel; but, despite all these injuries, the Borgo picture is, I consider, the finer of the two, and the Lyons one, although by the same hand, a later and more careless replica.

In the Borgo picture the Virgin is in religious garb and has the head covered: in the Lyons picture there is a more secular garb, the head uncovered and short hair to be seen. In the Borgo picture the angels carry loosely looped narrow ribbon carefully and gracefully drawn: the ribbon in the Lyons picture is broader, more coarsely painted, lettered throughout, and falling in awkward folds. The wings of the cherubs in the mandorla at Borgo are painted with exquisite detail, every little scale and feather being carefully represented; these details are almost entirely absent in the Lyons picture, where the wings of the cherubs appear to be hurriedly painted and lacking altogether in finish. There is far greater sweetness in the faces at Borgo, especially those of the Redeemer, the Virgin, St. Peter, and St. Paul, than at Lyons, where all these four important faces are roughly and even coarsely delineated. In some of the attendant disciples, the hair, which at Borgo is daintily painted in, and flows in slightly ringletted form, hangs loosely at Lyons and is of a harsher texture, and the wonderful trees sharply delineated against the sky and full of exquisite foliage at Borgo, are hardly to be seen at Lyons, and are represented by half-a-dozen dwarfish shrubs.

The mandorla in the Borgo picture is a deep luminous band of mysterious colour, out of which, and against the light fleecy clouds, rise the cherub faces: at Lyons it is a flat band of heavy colour, the clouds are woolly and thick, and the cherub faces, instead of rising from the wondrous depth, lay superimposed upon the mandorla as upon a piece of board.

I am strongly of opinion that the Borgo picture was the original work, the Lyons one, for which he contracted to the monks of Cassino, March 6th, 1495, being either a somewhat hurried replica of it in which the master grew tired of the monotony of repetition, or else that it was a picture in which a certain amount of labour was left to assistants and pupils. There is an important study for three apostles, in the Uffizi, which was clearly prepared for the Borgo picture and not for the Lyons one, as, while closely resembling the former, it differs from the latter in one or two important details. This is not the accepted theory, I know, and it is one that will probably not meet with universal acceptance, but a careful comparison of the pictures leads me to a clear opinion in the matter. With regard to the pilaster saints the case is different. Those at the Vatican are all genuine work of the master and are extremely fine, and the same may be said of three of the five at Perugia, but two of them are not entirely Perugino's work, and bear traces of a pupil's hand. The three predella pictures on the other hand, which are at Rouen, are charming examples of the master's work, and are bathed in that wonderful golden sunlight which is so distinctive of his finest work. In each picture a strip of the foreground which was damaged in transit has had to be restored: in the "Adoration" it is the very slightest bit along the front of the whole picture; in the "Resurrection" it is a wider piece, embracing part of the feet of three of the sleeping soldiers and the edge of the stone slab on which the tomb rests; but in the third picture, the "Baptism," the damage is serious, as the foreground strip includes the feet of Our Lord and one foot of the Baptist. In all other respects these three panels are exquisite specimens of Perugino's fine and discriminative work.

With respect to the lunette it must be noted that Crowe and Cavalcaselle and many other writers are in error in stating that it hangs in St. Germain l'Auxerrois in Paris, whereas it is in St. Gervais, a very different church. It is not in good condition, having suffered much from cleaning and repair, and it has a horizontal split which nearly divides it into two pieces. It is nevertheless clearly discernible as a fine work from the master's hand. There is neither predella nor lunette at Borgo S. Sepolcro. There is no question as to the date of the S. Pietro altar-piece, as the original contract for painting it is still in existence and appears in full in Orsini.[L] It is dated 8th March 1496, and recites how the abbot and chapter of the monastery gave out on contract to Perugino the picture of the High Altar for the price of 500 gold ducats. The Borgo picture was therefore, I contend, a little earlier, but perhaps only a year in advance of the other. The picture of Francesco delle Opere belongs to this same period, but as in the chapter on the Cambio it will be further discussed, it may well be passed with brief mention at this place. Finally, as part of the work of these two prolific years, comes one of our artist's masterpieces, the "Entombment," now in the Pitti Palace. Space composition is seen in this picture in its full vigour. How quiet is the atmosphere of the scene, how reverent and tender a mood it creates. How vast is the space in which the episode is placed, and how marvellously is the sense of immeasurable distance produced.

The picture is one of the most beautiful that Perugino ever painted. The composition is very clever, well balanced and well grouped, while the faces are of a serene beauty that was never surpassed in later works. It is well to notice that the dead body of Our Lord retains much of the flexibility of life, while quite as clearly is seen the weight and the looseness of death. The mourners around are full of tender pity, while the grief of the Virgin is too great for words, and evinces itself in the look of deep affection that fills that wonderful face. Each figure is, however, distinct, self-centred, and enfolded in its own grief. It is only the fact that each one is thinking of the great central figure that gives to the picture, as a whole, any real completeness. It is a sober, thoughtful composition, full of sentiment, but lacking any of the strong moving force that other schools gave to a similar representation, and, although the forerunner of Fra Bartolommeo's greater work, it has none of the intensity that his more emotional nature could present.

Some delightful studies for this picture appear in the Uffizi, marked by most careful study. The clenched hands of one of the two persons who stand close to Nicodemus are very noteworthy. The action is so expressive of intense, but restrained sorrow, and the drawing of the fine, delicate, but muscular hands, is particularly excellent. In the studies the richly-ornamented cap of the youth in the group does not appear. The cap in the drawing is quite plain, and the face, which in the picture is very expressive, is hard and uninteresting. Another large pen drawing for this picture exists, and is in Christ Church, Oxford. By some critics it is not accepted as a work of Perugino's. It is ascribed to one of his pupils, or to a later man altogether, especially because several of the faces are hard and unimpressive. Let, however, the drapery be closely examined, and the curious formation with dark hollows and oval curves will be recognised at once. The large projecting great toe, and the manner in which it sets away from the other toes, leaving a clear space between it and them, is noticeable, while the limp flexibility of the bare flesh of the Christ is also an important criterion in deciding on the origin of the drawing. To me it appears as a thoroughly genuine work, marking out the general grouping of the picture. The positions of Nicodemus, Mary Cleophas, and the youth, underwent some slight changes, and the other figures near to Nicodemus were introduced, but the picture preserves very closely the original suggestions of the drawing.

The finished picture was executed for the nuns of Santa Chiara, but when they had obtained it, so highly was it admired, that Vasari records that a rich Florentine, Francesco del Pugliese, offered them three times the price that they had paid for it, as well as a replica from the master's own hand, but the tempting offer was declined, as Pietro had told them that he did not think he could equal the one they possessed.

CHAPTER V

THE STORY OF THE PILLAGE

It is from the French occupation of Italy that all these difficulties result. There was a time prior to 1796 when Perugia was very rich with the works of her adopted son Pietro Perugino. At that time almost every church possessed pictures by the master; the altar-piece painted in 1495 for the magistrates' chapel was still in situ, and the public buildings in the city were possessed of rich decoration, the work of that artist whom Perugia had delighted to honour and employ.

After the armistice of Bologna had been signed in 1796, French commissioners were sent through Italy to demand and select pictures and other works of art which Napoleon required as spoil from his defeated enemies.

Perugia, as a city rich in art treasures, suffered greatly. The treaty of Tolentino (1797) demanded urgency, and, without any delay, a commissioner, Tinet by name, descended upon Perugia, and, on the very day on which the treaty was signed, addressed a letter to the Priori, demanding in the name of the Republic leave of entry into all churches, monasteries, and public places, in order to select such objects as he thought were worthy of transmission to Paris. He did not confine himself to an arrangement that had been made in the previous July, that Perugia was to furnish three pictures as its ransom, but demanded free right to take what he pleased. His orders were too pressing to be eluded, and the Priori had no course but to obey. The pillage commenced on the 20th, and lasted for two days, but Tinet was not satisfied. He had a strong impression that many of the best things were hidden from him, and so in even more emphatic terms he demanded that the superiors of St. Augustine and St. Antoine, and the librarians of the religious orders and of the town should give him access in order that he might select their greatest treasures and whatever he thought worthy of adorning the museums of the great republic. Meantime, secretly by night, with urgent haste, the treasures of the religious houses were being hidden away. The altar-pieces were divided and the smaller portions, pictures from the predelle, and panels of attendant saints were carried to private houses, hidden under floors and behind panelling, and secreted in every possible way. Reliquaries and monstrances were in wells, and railings and iron grilles covered over with grease and dirt in order to hide them from the covetous gaze of the commissioner.

Tinet was, however, unfortunately, a very determined man, and a connoisseur to boot, and in the two days' search, he had obtained the chief treasures in Perugia. It appeared at one time as though that notable picture, the altar-piece in the Magistrates' Chapel, painted in 1495, would be overlooked, but he remembered it at the very last moment and it was included. To add insult to injury, the Perugians were ordered to pack and transmit their treasures, but every possible effort was made to delay the work and prevent their being sent off. Much correspondence ensued, and the Priori did their utmost to raise difficulties, but all was to no purpose, and on March 27th six carriages drawn by twenty-four oxen and attended by six peasants, quitted Perugia amid the tears and lamentations of the people, carrying with them the greatest treasures of the city, never to be seen again within its walls. The very magnificent proportions of many of Perugino's pictures rendered it impossible for them to be concealed, their predella pictures and pilaster saints were in some instances safe, but the central panels it was impossible to guard, and in the thirty-two pictures carried off to Paris, there were included twelve of the greatest of the master's works, and also the famous "Sposalizio" from the chapel of the Anello, and the "Palladium" of the city, the altar-piece from the Magistrates' Chapel. Drawn by the great white Umbrian oxen, and slowly journeying across Europe, these heavily-laden vans took their way, and the pictures that for three hundred years had been objects of devotion and delight to the good people of Perugia, and were cruelly torn from their resting places, went to swell the vanity of the terrible conqueror in Paris.

Still, however, Perugia now so poor in her master's works, was too rich for envious eyes. The peace of Vienna had been signed, there was a pause in the warfare in Europe prior to the invasion of Russia in 1812, and some attention was given to internal affairs. On the 25th of February 1811 appeared an Imperial decree, requiring that the treasures in the department of the Trasimène (as the district under its new French rulers was styled) should be brought together in order to ornament the picture galleries that Napoleon had erected. With cruel irony the decree stated that, doubtless, the people of Perugia would rejoice that their pictures were deemed worthy to ornament the galleries of Paris.

Napoleon himself had a great admiration for the works of Perugino, and the pictures he owned by the master made him desirous of possessing more; and as with the conqueror to desire was to obtain, he immediately issued this decree regardless of the feelings of his newly conquered subjects. The Count de Champagny, who was the minister charged with the execution of the decree, passed on to Count Daru, his subordinate in the "French" city of Rome, a list of pictures that had been prepared by Baron Denon, the director of the gallery, who had passed his youth in Italy, and being a great connoisseur, had an excellent memory of what fine Italian pictures were left in the plundered city.

Count Daru was to pass on the list to Baron Roederer, Prefect of the Trasimène, who on his part was to see that the Sub-Prefect Spada gave every assistance to one, Tofanelli, who was to select and transmit the pictures.

Tofanelli arrived in Perugia September 30th, 1812, and one day sufficed for him to make his selection. Forty-eight pictures were selected, and packed in cases ready for transmission, an agreement entered into between him and the town, signed by himself and countersigned by the mayor, and a contract sealed between him and Signor Franceschini for removing the pictures to Rome, and then Tofanelli hurried off back to Rome. The pictures were to be sent immediately, but upon Tofanelli's departure, a long series of delays and negotiations commenced, suggested and arranged by the mayor in order to save the pictures. This worthy man, Cesarei, deserves better recognition to-day in Perugia. He worked valiantly for the city, and now his name is nearly forgotten. While Tofanelli was in Perugia, he dissembled his feelings, aided the commissioner, signed any papers that were presented to him, had the pictures packed, and gaily saluted Tofanelli as he left the city; but once the commissioner had gone, he determined to do his very utmost to prevent the forty-eight pictures gathered from the shrines of his city leaving its gates. He appealed to the bishop and to the government, he worried the prefect and the sub-prefect, and eventually obtained a promise that those pictures which were specially dear as objects before which the Perugians paid their devotions might be retained. Forthwith the cases were opened, and these pictures replaced in their original positions, to the great joy of the people.

Hardly had this been done than the permission was countermanded. The mayor was regretting that he had asked for so little, and that the pictures in the sacristies and corridors of the monasteries would not be grouped with those taken from the churches. He was explaining that all the pictures were equally dear to the Perugians, when again an order arrived to send on all the pictures. Once more the mayor dissembled. He promised to send the cases as soon as he could obtain carriages, but at the same time wrote, to the Count Daru, to the Director of the Police in Rome, and to the Count Baglioni Oddi, one of the deputies in Paris, invoking the interests of religion and of art of the province and of the capital to save his beloved pictures. Again he won a temporary success. On August 26th an order arrived from headquarters, permitting Perugia to retain twenty out of the forty-eight pictures chosen by Tofanelli. Once more there was rejoicing, but again came disaster. Count Daru intervened, every concession was overturned, and a fresh order from even higher authorities reached the mayor, ordering him to send on without delay to the Capitol at Rome, every picture selected by Tofanelli. These instructions the mayor stated he could not understand. He wrote on November 16, stating that, of course, this last order did not include the pictures just given back to Perugia, and appealing to Baron Roederer for consideration, adding as a reason that he could not be responsible for the people should the pictures that they cherished be taken away.

To this appeal Roederer turned a deaf ear. He wrote on December 4, again on December 8, and again on December 13, stating that it was impossible to admit any reasons, and he must demand that all the pictures be sent at once. The mayor, indefatigable as ever, wrote again and again, raised all kinds of difficulties, continued to warn the authorities that the people would make a tumult, and that he could not be responsible for their tranquillity, and finally sent letters from the clergy of San Severo and San Costanzo supporting his statements.

All was of no avail. On November 6th, 1813, final definite orders arrived, and the precious cases had to be sent to Rome.

A few more days' delay would have saved the pictures, as at the moment that the cases reached Rome the Neapolitans under Murat entered the city, and French dominion in Rome was at an end. Even then the irony of circumstance continued, for, when, on January 6th, 1814, the pictures arrived in Paris, the allied forces arrived also, and Baron Denon was ordered to restore to their lawful proprietors the pictures that had been stolen.

The most unfortunate part of the story has now to be told. Instead of forcing France to restore the booty at her own cost and at once, the allies, in more merciful mood, simply demanded that she should send for the Italian representatives and permit them to take away their property. Only ten days were allowed in Paris for the booty to be secured, packed, and transmitted, and, as envoys arrived from all parts of Italy, and each was eager to obtain what he could as quickly as possible, very many pictures were left behind. The pictures sent to Paris in 1797 had been more in number than could be accommodated in the gallery, and, as it is so easy to give away other people's property, the government had distributed as marks of favour and bribes for tranquillity many of the best Italian pictures amongst the provincial museums in France. Many of these pictures Canova, who was sent by the Holy See, failed to trace; others it was impossible to obtain, as, although the allies were in possession of Paris, they were not equally masters of the distant provinces in France, and, consequently, in France these pictures remained. Even of those twenty-one pictures stolen from Perugia in 1812 but two were returned to Italy, and those only got as far as Rome.

Englishmen may well feel proud of their part in this transaction. It was the firmness of the British Government[M] that enabled the Vatican Gallery to take its position as one of the great picture galleries of the world. They not only enforced the restitution by the French of the plunder accumulated in the Louvre by the rapacious arms of Napoleon, but even contributed some £30,000 to defray the expenses of the removal, which the finances of Pius VII. could ill afford, no other allied power contributing one farthing.

Canova gathered up, in the short time at his disposal, and with the limited means that he possessed, all the fine pictures that he could obtain, and the treasures now in Rome are the proof of his zeal and exertions.

Meantime the Priori of Perugia waited for two years, hoping against hope that their treasures might come back to them. At length, in September 1816, they wrote to Canova, and he replied to them on the 20th. His letter explained how encompassed with difficulty he had been in Paris, how short a time had been allowed him in which to remove the pictures, how small were the means at his disposal, how scattered were the pictures, and how impossible it was, without force of arms to travel from department to department and take possession of the property.

With regard to one notable picture about which the Perugians were specially anxious, the "Ascension," from San Pietro, he explained that the people of Lyons had appealed to the Pope for permission to retain it. They set forth their attachment to the Holy See, their zeal for the Chief Pontiff, and the singular affection which they had manifested toward His Holiness whenever he passed by Lyons. Their petition received attention, and the cardinal secretary wrote, on November 13th, 1816, an authorisation to the city of Lyons to retain the picture which had been so disgracefully torn from its resting-place in Perugia.

Canova was evidently as anxious as were the Perugians to obtain back all the pictures; but events were too strong for him, and the poor Perugians never again possessed the great treasures of art which, prior to 1797, made their city one of the richest in Italy.

Cesarei, the indefatigable mayor of Perugia, who had been appointed gonfaloniere year after year in order to obtain restitution of the pictures, did not give up hope of obtaining his end for some years. He tried hard to obtain the two pictures which English generosity had restored to Italy, and he worried the Holy See with repeated letters and appeals.

At length Cardinal Consalvi, on October 8th, 1817, closed the whole episode by a letter to Cesarei. He explained that the pictures were all presented by the allied forces to the Sovereign Pontiff as the Head of the Pontifical states from which they had been taken, and that they were exposed in Rome for the education of the students who came from all over Europe to study in the Queen of Cities. In consequence, the Papal Government had the right, the Cardinal continued, to retain the pictures.

It may be added that, even if the Holy See had not the right to retain the pictures, it had too much business on hand at that time to be able to give attention to works of art, and insufficient money in its depleted treasury to pay for their removal.

Such is the story, with all its mournful details, of the pillage of Perugia, and it will now be easily understood why the provincial museums of France are so rich in the works of this master.

To reconstruct the great altar-piece of St. Agostino means that visits must be made to Lyons, Grenoble, Toulouse, Nantes, and Perugia. For another altar-piece it is necessary to visit Rouen, Lyons, Perugia, Rome, and Paris; while yet other pictures are at Caen, Nancy, Tarbes, Bordeaux, Strassburg, Marseilles, Lille, and Chantilly.

The scattering is not now wholly confined to France, for pictures at one time in France are now at Altenburg, Frankfort, Vienna, and St. Petersburg, while odd pieces of these self-same pictures remain to-day in Perugia.

CHAPTER VI

IN FULL STRENGTH

What is quite clear is that the company of St. Guiseppe received, as Mariotti records, the grant of a subsidy for an altar-piece; but Professor Adam Rossi states that up to November 1500 the picture had not been commenced. To 1500, therefore, Crowe attributes this picture, Morelli putting it earlier, in 1496. On these attributions a theory has been built up that Raphael in his "Sposalizio" (painted in 1503 or 1504) took as his motif the picture painted by his master Perugino, and improved considerably on the original conception. Crowe and Cavalcaselle in their inspection of the picture refer to its most striking quality, "its bright colouring," and qualify their praise by stating that "the tones have not the glow" of the master's usual work, and that "the forms are less pliant than of old." It is exactly these features that first attract the spectator and which, I must confess, puzzled me very considerably.

A little closer examination revealed the strange inequality in the surface of the picture, the stringiness and lumpiness of the draperies and the streaky character of the background. Much of my perplexity, however, ought not to have existed, inasmuch as in the Gazette des Beaux Arts, April 1896, Mr. Berenson had carefully examined the whole question, and ascribed the picture not to Perugino at all, nor to an earlier period than the Raphael "Sposalizio," but to the hand of Lo Spagna, and since 1504. With his opinion, although contrary to the accepted judgment, I am in the fullest accord, and I think that Vasari, going only upon hearsay, and with probably only a casual glance at the picture, if ever he saw it at all, makes a grave mistake when he attributes it to Pietro. Mr. Berenson examines all the evidence pro and con with his usual ability, and produces, in my opinion, overwhelming proof of his attribution. He compares the "Sposalizio" with the pictures by Lo Spagna in other places, the "Virgin and Child" at Perugia, the "Nativity" and the "Madonna and Child" at the Louvre, and the "Coronation of the Virgin," Lo Spagna's greatest work (dated 1511), and preserved at Todi.

He points out that several of the faces in these pictures are identical with faces at Caen, notably the face of the Virgin, which in every way, even in position, is the counterpart of the one in the "Nativity" in Paris. He finds the face of St. Joseph in more than one of Spagna's pictures, and especially he refers to a figure in the Caen picture, the fourth to the right, a woman wearing a hood, which never once appears in any work of Perugino's, but which does appear, line for line, not only in the Todi "Coronation," but in another of Spagna's pictures. Other points of close resemblance are to be found in the drawing of the ears, which are totally different to those of Perugino's figures; in the hands, which are broad and heavy in the Caen picture and in Lo Spagna's usual work, but fine and delicate in Perugino's; and especially in the colouring, certain special tints such as a chartreuse-green and rose-salmon appearing in the Caen and Todi pictures, and never once to be found in Perugino's accepted work.

One very instructive set of arguments Mr. Berenson draws from a close examination of Raphael's "Sposalizio" at Milan. Its shape is upright. Perugino always represented the scene in a long, narrow panel, the position of the Virgin and St. Joseph, and of the branch carried by St. Joseph, are entirely antithetical to the Umbrian fashion, while, curiously enough, Lorenzo Costa, who was probably a fellow-pupil of Raphael's, under the influence of Timoteo Vite, painted in about 1504 or 1505 a "Sposalizio," upright as is this one, at Caen, and agreeing with it in many other ways. A masterly piece of reasoning shows that Raphael's work is of the Ferrarese school and not of the Umbrian, and that instead of its being a souvenir of the Caen picture, and based upon it and greatly improved, it is, in fact, an original work upon which Lo Spagna based his picture which is now at Caen. When to these arguments are added the want of style and dignity in the Bramantesque temple at Caen, the absence of the colonnade that Perugino favoured, and which he drew from Piero della Francesca, the want of intermediate grouping, the stubborn heaviness of the draperies, so different from Perugino's light, easy folds, the hard, empty density of the foliage, the change in the distant scenery, and the absence of horizon and cloud, and finally the entirely different drawing of the feet from the manner in which Perugino drew them, the case is practically proved, and to Lo Spagna must the Caen picture be attributed. If further evidence were needed, it is ready to hand in the fact that not one Perugian letter, document, or writer attributes the "Sposalizio" to Perugino, although all speak of it with great terms of reverence, while Vasari alone gives it to Vannucci, and, as is well known, his attributions must often be taken cum grano salis.

Having in all this agreed most gladly with Mr. Berenson, I must now part company with him in reference to another picture attributed to this same year.

Few pictures have exercised critics more than has the "Apollo and Marsyas" in the Louvre.

This charming little work was purchased by Mr. Morris Moore as a Mantegna. When sold to the Louvre in 1883 for 200,000 francs, it was agreed that it should be placed in the Salon Carré, under the title of "Raphael de Morris Moore."

It is still called a Raphael in the Louvre catalogue, although a note is added which only commits the authorities to the statement that it is unquestionably the work of an Umbrian artist. Morelli put it first to Timoteo Vite, but confesses that he did not examine it carefully. In a later work he withdrew this ascription, and says that "it belongs most probably to a master whose style is in close affinity with that of Perugino." Mr. Berenson includes it in his list of Perugino's works, but I am much more inclined to leave the attribution where Morelli left it.

The two figures are quite nude. This is almost a unique circumstance with Perugino, the only other nude figures in his pictures being some distant ones in his "Love and Chastity." Here is, therefore, a most exceptional circumstance; and also the absence of any drapery deprives the critic of one of the most definite marks, the dark hollows, by which Perugino's work is identified. Furthermore, there are birds in the sky, and I know of no sky of Perugino's in which they appear. The feet of the two figures are very Peruginesque, the open and upward curling great toe is clearly defined; but the hands have not the awkward tong shape of his earlier work, nor the very thin, boneless appearance of his mature work. The landscape and the trees are like those of Perugino; but the very prominent lyre has none of his characteristics, and in technique and handling is painted quite differently from Perugino's method. The picture seems much more likely to be the work of Pinturicchio, and, in any case, I cannot personally attribute it to Perugino.

I agree, however, with Mr. Claud Phillips in attributing the "St. Bernard" at Munich to this period of Perugino's life. It is, of course, impossible to fix its date exactly, but from 1496 to 1500 one may safely put it, and, as regards its serene beauty, hardly too much can be said. The picture was originally in the church of San Spirito in Florence, and there is now a copy of it in that place. King Ludwig I. bought it in 1829 from the Capponi family, who held the rights over the Nasi chapel, where it hung, and although it has been cleaned and restored, it remains a beautiful and quite genuine work. It is well to compare the hands and the ears in this picture, with their delicate, sensitive beauty, with the heavy features in the Caen picture, to which reference was lately made, and the comparison will be wholly satisfactory, and in every way in favour of Mr. Berenson's argument. An interesting study for this "Vision of St. Bernard" is at the Uffizi, and comparison may well be made with a picture by Lippo Lippi in the Badia, illustrating the same scene.

To this same period we attribute the "Virgin in Glory" at Bologna, the "Family of St. Anne" at Marseilles, and the masterpiece in Florence, the "Crucifixion" of Sta. Maria Maddalena dei Pazzi. In the Bologna picture we see the lovely figure of St. Michael, to which allusion has already been made when reference was made to the Certosa altar-piece, now in the National Gallery. The great archangel is even fuller of beauty in this picture, his hands especially being of exquisite form and grace. There are three other adoring saints, St. Catherine of Alexandria, St. John the Divine, and St. Apollonia.

Above in the sky is the glowing mandorla of cherubs, a favourite device of Pietro's, glowing with rainbow radiance, and enveloping in its misty colour the cherub heads which belong to it. The conception is very lovely, the colouring subdued and sunny, and, while the picture recalls the Borgo and Lyons pictures, it yet foreshadows the great Vallombrosan "Assumption" which the master was to produce a few years later on.

The Marseilles picture is remarkable in many ways. It represents a scene that was very seldom selected by the old masters, and which no one treated so beautifully as did Perugino (see Frontispiece). There are, perhaps, not more than half-a-dozen examples amongst all the old masters' pictures which represent the "Family of St. Anne," and yet the subject is one that is particularly worthy of careful and thoughtful treatment. Perugino has adopted a very fine arrangement. The Virgin is enthroned in the centre, and has the divine Child on her knee. Behind her stands St. Anne in a very motherly attitude, resting her two hands on her daughter's shoulders. On the right of the throne stands St. Mary Salome, holding in her arms St. John the Divine, and by her side is St. Joachim, the husband of St. Anne. At their feet stands the child St. James. On the opposite side, to the left of the throne, stands St. Mary, the wife of Cleophas, holding in her arms St. James the Less. By her side stands St. Joseph, and near by another child, St. Joseph Justus. Two more children, St. Simon and St. Thaddeus, are seated on the steps of the throne, and above them is the inscription, PETRVS DE CHASTRO PLEBIS PINXIT.

The whole scene is under a wonderful and lofty archway, and beyond is an exquisite landscape of hills and rolling plain. The children are exquisite in grace and beauty, and two of them were copied by Raphael, and his picture still hangs in the sacristy of St. Pietro in Cassinense at Perugia. The artist has inscribed the name of each saint on the halo of light that surrounds each head, and the composition of the group is almost perfect, so well arranged and so well balanced. The colouring is subdued but radiant with sunlight, and few pictures are as typical of the master's hand. All his peculiarities of painting, his unusual draperies, his exaggerated feet, his long slender hands with lumpy knuckles, and his restful, quiet, self-contained figures can be studied in it. Originally it was painted for the monastery of St. Anna, and later on was transferred to St. Maria de Fossi in Perugia, and was brought to Marseilles with the Perugian spoil which was mentioned in a preceding chapter. There is an early drawing for the whole picture at Alnwick.

The wonderful fresco at Sta. Maria Maddalena dei Pazzi was never seen by Crowe and Cavalcaselle or would have been recognised by them as one of the artist's grandest conceptions. In Crowe's time, the permission of the Archbishop of Florence was needed ere the picture could be inspected, and this permission Crowe could not obtain. The chapter-house in which it is situate is now secularised, and the fresco can be seen. Vasari speaks of the monastery under its old name of the Cestello, and records that a picture of St. Bernard was also painted for the same house, but this has been lost. The great fresco in question was ordered in 1493, for 55 ducats, by Pietro Pucci and his wife Giovanna, and was finished in this eventful year April 20th, 1496. The scene is represented under three arches. In the central one is the Crucifix, its arms stretching from wall to wall of the arch, its foot on the ground, and its upper extremity nearly touching the crown of the arch. At its foot kneels the Magdalen, gazing tenderly up at the crucified Christ, above the cross are the eclipsed sun and moon. On the left are the two figures of the Virgin and St. Bernard, and on the right are two more figures, St. John the Divine and St. Benedict.

There are only these six figures in the entire picture, which covers the whole wall of the chapter-house, but beyond them the arches seem to reveal a great Umbrian landscape, which stretches farther than eye can reach. It is practically the same view as can be seen from the city of Perugia, from the hill of Montefalco or from the monastery of Assisi, and is apparently limitless. There are the long sweeping outlines of the Umbrian Hills, the distant towns with their churches and castles, the pleasant waters winding in and out of the hills and gleaming in the evening light, and the delicate larch and olive trees crowning the hills and standing out so clearly and daintily against the sky, while above and filling nearly half of the archway space is the blue and purple sky, flecked with white gossamer clouds and reaching far up in its hollow dome beyond the range of sight.

As the spectator steps into the quaint chapter-house, this whole scene appears to open into view. The central crucifix with its solemn burden, and the five quiet figures standing so still and placid, full of that intense sorrow and tender pity which absorb the whole being, and which are so evidently the dominant passions that the mind of the spectator unites with them, and all who gaze on this sublime scene do so with reverend pity for the central figure, and intense sympathy for the spectators in the drama. There are two studies in existence for this work, one for the Christ on the Cross, on the back of a drawing of Pericles (252, 400) and the other for the standing figure of the Virgin (251, 417). Both are in the Uffizi Gallery. In the central compartment of the fresco will be recognised the prototype of the "Crucifixion" by Raphael now belonging to Mr. Ludwig Mond. There is, however, far more pure beauty, definite purpose, and tender reverence in the work by Perugino than in that by the youthful Raphael, although the merit of the latter work is very great, and surprisingly so when the age of the artist is taken into consideration. There is a breadth and power and an originality about Raphael's figure that is wonderful, but from the point of view of reverence and devotion, Perugino's marvellous and touching creation is superior to it.

The Certosa altar-piece, now in the National Gallery, is usually considered to be one of the greatest pictures Perugino ever executed. One-sixth part of it only is still in situ, the central panel of the upper tier. This represents the Eternal Father within a mandorla of cherubs. The remaining five panels are copies, the two upper ones, after Borgognone, to replace originals in France, the three lower ones to replace the originals in London.

There are one or two points that merit special attention in this picture. It is desirable to mention that what has been called the monotony of Perugino can be clearly seen at this time. The figure of St. Michael has already appeared in the Albani altar-piece, and will appear again in the Bologna "Assumption," and other pictures.

The elaborately decorated shield and the quaint head-dress of the great archangel appear in the figures of the Cambio decoration, in the "Sposalizio," and in the Sistine Chapel fresco. The angels which appear in the central panel will be marked again and again in later works.

Perugino in his lifetime was severely criticised for this failing. Lanzi expressly records the grumbling of many of Perugino's patrons at his want of variety in treatment, the fact that his altar-pieces more or less closely resembled one another, and the artist's reply that he robbed no one. His figures were admired in one picture, why should they not be in another? and if a figure was pronounced lovely and suitable at one time and for one place, why should it be condemned when used for a similar position in another place.

This complaint, made in the fifteenth century, has continued down to the present time, and has certain justification. There is a want of originality about Perugino's conceptions beyond a certain point; but this very monotony is a most useful aid in recognising and scheduling his pictures, while individually his figures are so graceful, and his groups so well composed, that those who love Umbrian art never tire of gazing upon his fascinating pictures.