As it seemed to me, from his drawing, that Gordigiani had talent for sculpture, I advised him to give himself up to that art, and he readily came to my studio and began to model with goodwill. But, either because the material he had to handle was difficult to manage on account of its novelty, or because impatience got the better of him, one fine day he threw his tools and work to the ground, and would have nothing more to say to them. He gave himself up to painting portraits, and succeeded so well that he has now become the portrait-painter most praised amongst us, and has made for himself a really enviable position. Nevertheless, I believe that if he had had a little constancy, he would have succeeded as well in sculpture as in painting, because few understand as well as he does the form and relation of planes.

I REFUSE TO FINISH BARTOLINI'S STATUES.

At this time I had a commission to finish in marble two statues by Bartolini that he had left unfinished; the "Nymph and the Scorpion" for the Emperor of Russia, and the "Nymph and the Serpent" for the Marchese Ala-Ponzoni of Milan. With regard to this there were certain ill-natured reports against me that I think best to clear up. Some time before, Prince Demidoff had engaged and even begged of me to finish some of the figures of the great monument to his father that Bartolini had left incomplete. I would not accept this commission, because the master had worked on them a great deal himself, and it seemed to me irreverent, and not a thing to be done, to continue and finish his work. I endeavoured to make the Prince understand that as Bartolini had worked upon it himself, and the work was so well advanced, it had more value left as it was than if it were finished by my hand, be it even with all the love of an artist. The Prince did not appear to be much persuaded by this reasoning, and insisted, saying that my principles in art were the same as those taught by Bartolini, and the veneration felt by me for him was a pledge of the love I would employ in finishing these figures. I thanked the Prince for the too great confidence he placed in me as an artist, but I begged of him not to insist in carrying out this idea of having the work finished, either by me or by any other—for he, in order to force me to accept, said that otherwise he should give it to some one else, and added (exaggerating out of kindness my worth in art) that it would be my fault if it chanced that the artist was not fully equal to the arduous enterprise. I answered that I thought other artists abler than myself, but was of opinion that the statues ought to be left as they were. In order to convince him, I reminded him, as an example to the purpose, of the Medici monuments in San Lorenzo, before which no one would dare to say, "What a pity these figures are not finished!" if he did not say it with regard to Michael Angelo himself. And if, instead, they had been finished by other hands, with a good reason he would curse Clement, who, after having betrayed his country, had wished to offer this offence to art and Michael Angelo's fame. This, God be praised, cannot be said, because the statues of Day and Night are just as that divine master left them. These words, said with the conviction and the warmth of an artist, who was a poor one to boot, and wishing and longing for fame and fortune, so entirely convinced the Prince, that he was quite satisfied; and pressing my hand in silence, which was more eloquent than words, he left me.

RESTORATION OF BARTOLINI'S STATUE.

If this conduct of mine was praised by some people in the hopes that it had not been quite liked by the Prince, my acceptance of the order for the two statues for the Emperor and the Marchese Ala afterwards, gave rise to a number of remarks: "See his consistency of principles and opinions!" they said. "How is it that the same reasons that were held out for his refusing the figures in the Demidoff monument do not hold equally good for these? Are these not also statues of Bartolini's, and to be finished in the same way as those?"

And here I come to an explanation of this point, where it would seem as if I had been in contradiction with myself. On one of these statues, the "Nymph and the Scorpion," for the Emperor of Russia, Bartolini had never worked with his own hands—in fact, it was not finished, not even blocked out. On the other, for the Marchese Ala, he had worked, but how? The head, where he had wished to make a change in the arrangement of the hair, had been so cut away that there was a finger's-breadth of marble in the blocking-out points wanting on each side, so that it was ugly to see; and in addition to this, he had bent the forefinger of the left hand that rests on the serpent under the palm of the hand, perhaps because in undercutting it the last joint of the finger had been broken. Now this finger, bent back and dislocated, looked very badly, when compared with the model in plaster, where the fingers were all extended, and pressed upon the serpent's neck admirably. I therefore accepted both these commissions,—the one because it had never been touched by Bartolini's own hand, and the other because I was willing and able to put it straight. However, before touching the statue, I made the Marchese Ala acquainted with the serious defects there were in it, which Bartolini would certainly have remedied had he had the time to finish it; and I asked for his permission (and on this condition alone accepted the work) to cut off all the top of the head with the locks of hair where it had been injured, in order to replace it exactly in the way that Bartolini had first imagined and modelled it, and to add a piece of marble to the hand to remake the forefinger. He consented to these conditions. In order to make sure myself that I was right, before cutting away the defective parts, I had a mould and cast taken from them, that any one might see how they stood before I touched them, and how by taking the original model for my guide, I had replaced them: and I then said (as I now write), that all who were sensible and reasonable understood and were satisfied; as to the others, I do not know what they thought, nor did I care for them then, nor do now. I finished the two statues, copying the original models where these were carefully finished, and interpreting them where they were barely indicated, selecting suitable models from life; and so I satisfied those who trusted in me, and my own conscience.

STATUE OF INNOCENCE.

Some time previous to this the Marchese Ala had given me an order for the "Sleep of Innocence"—a statue of a child sleeping—which I had already executed a long time before for my excellent friend the Marchese Alessandro Bichi-Ruspoli of Siena. I therefore repeated this child in marble by commission of the aforesaid Marchese Ala; but being rather changeable, he afterwards declared to me that this work did not entirely satisfy him, although it was conscientiously done, and that he should take it only because he had engaged to do so. I answered that I wished my works to be taken because they were liked, not because they were ordered, and begged that he would not speak of it again. He thanked me, and promised to give me another order for portraits of his three pretty little children; but subsequently I heard nothing more about it. One day, being in Turin, and finding myself at Vela's studio, where I had gone to pay him a visit, I saw a very graceful little portrait-group, full length, such as that able artist knew how to make and is in the habit of making. I asked, "Who are these pretty children?"

THE MARCHESE ALA.

"They are the children of Marchese Ala," replied Vela. "It is already some time since he ordered this work, but he has not yet put in an appearance. I have written him so many letters, to which I have received no answer, that I don't know what to think."