THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST AND SAINT NICHOLAS OF BARI

By Raphael

SAINT HELENA—THE VISION OF THE CROSS

By Paolo Veronese (vay-ro-nay´-zee)

Where did they come from? Out of the famous private collections of England. When nobility dies without an heir, or the heir himself needs money, then the pictures collected by the art-loving elders of perhaps a dozen generations come by bequest to the National Gallery, or find their way to the auction room and are purchased for the gallery. Thus it is that the National Gallery has been the natural inheritor of the rich collections of England. It started less than a hundred years ago (in 1824) with the Angerstein collection, and has been growing ever since with gifts of collections such as those of Vernon, Wynn Ellis, Vaughan, Salting. If it is found necessary to bid for a picture at auction, a government grant or the subscriptions of wealthy art patrons, or both, generally carries the day against any private collector. Thus such famous pictures as Raphael’s “Ansidei Madonna,” Titian’s (tish´-an) “Ariosto,” Holbein’s “Duchess of Milan” were bought for the gallery at enormous prices—the Raphael bringing over $350,000, and the others some $150,000 each.

There are now about 3000 pictures in the gallery, though, of course, all of them are not hung at any one time. There is not enough wall space for that, though the building is in a chronic state of enlargement. New rooms are added from year to year, and new editions of the catalogue are being continually issued. The gallery is very well arranged and lighted, and very well managed. Management of a gallery seems very easy to the public because there is apparently no friction, but the director has his trials. And the pictures have their perils, not only from accidents, but from fanatical visitors. The greatest perils however, are from dust, gas, the tooth of time, and the hand of the careless cleaner. The pictures in the European galleries have suffered more from drastic scrubbing and reckless restoration than from all the other causes combined. The cleaning room has been the graveyard of many a masterpiece.

ITALIAN MASTERPIECES

Beyond doubt the Italian pictures here are the most important, both in quality and in quantity. No gallery in Europe quite equals that of London in its Renaissance masterpieces. And its Pre-Renaissance pictures are not to be despised. Of their kind nothing could be finer than the altar-piece by Orcagna (or-can´-ya) and the panels of Duccio (doo´-cho) or Monaco; but they are not carried so far, or so effectively, as the works of the later men—the “Doge Loredano” by Bellini, for example. Bellini is not the final word in art, but how perfect of its kind is this portrait of the Doge (doje) with its serene poise and supreme dignity! How devoid of anything like ostentation or display! And how direct it is in the revelation of the stern old warrior, who, when Doge of Venice, did not hesitate to wage war against France, Germany, and the Papacy—all three together. There are a number of attractive Madonnas by Bellini in the gallery, and an “Agony in the Garden” with a famous landscape at the back; but none of them quite comes up to the Doge in force or conviction of reality.