[179] See their Vittore Carpaccio et la Confrérie de Sainte Ursule, pp. 9-10, and Vittore Carpaccio, Le Vite e le Opere.
[180] Raphael was born in 1483. In 1491 his mother died.
[181] "Pisano's dragon is a pleasant-looking animal, wild-boar faced, and smilingly showing his fangs, as he crouches by the eminently gentlemanly St. George in the silver-plated and gilt armour; and a word in passing must be said for the lovely hog, with a broad grin overspreading his countenance, who accompanies the placid St. Anthony. Is not St. George, in the broad Tuscan hat, the personification of John Inglesant as il Cavaliere di San Giorgio?" (S. Beale in Good Words, July 1895).
[182] "A splendid example of the naïve humour of the painter. There is the father, somewhat sly, and the eldest son resembling him but less 'cute. The next head is that of a jolly, sandy-haired fellow. Then comes the reprobate, with a sensual upper lip, the only one in the family; all the others have thin, long slit mouths, as well as long straight noses. Behind, are the poor relations. We see the good, hard-working cousin, who has found life too much for him; the self-approving fellow, who thanks God he is not as other men are; and above him the man who, if he has been saved from committing some terrible crime, certainly owes his exemption to God's mercy, not, we may be sure, to his own strength of will. On the other side are the ladies of the family. The severe mamma, with flat brow, a veritable Mrs. Grundy. The daughter, evidently a worldling by the jewelled band round her forehead, is praying, because it is the business of the moment. The easy-going maiden above her has taken to religious life because it affords her a certain amount of distinction, with a little soul-saving. Behind, is the old great-aunt, a really pious soul, who has adopted conventual life from a devout conviction that she could live better and do more good as a member of a community than dwelling in the world. Above, are two fat-faced children, both more or less bored; and behind them is another, fascinated by the jewels of her kinswomen" (S. Beale in Good Words, July 1895).
[183] See Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 44, where a résumé of recent criticism and a facsimile of the Albertina drawing will be found. Signor Frizzoni, cited with approval by Richter, says: "Although the composition seems to me not in the least attractive, nor even successful (and for this very reason the picture might have been left unfinished), yet I cannot but consider it to be an original, and, moreover, a specially interesting one, and worthy of being looked at closely by those who wish to study the master in the numerous characteristic features of his style. In my opinion it is an early work by him; and this becomes evident especially from the purity and delicacy in the features of one of the Maries, standing on the right side, in which, if I am not mistaken, the pure types of his first master, Domenico Ghirlandaio, are much more perceptible than Buonarroti's own grand style. In other parts, however, the sculpturesque manner of modelling peculiar to him is not less noticeable—in the muscles, sturdy as usual, and in the prominent rendering of the corpse." Symonds, on the other hand, has no hesitation in rejecting the picture. "It is," he says, "painful to believe that at any period of his life Michelangelo could have produced a composition so discordant, so unsatisfactory in some anatomical details, so feelingless and ugly. It bears indubitable traces of his influence; that is apparent in the figure of the dead Christ. But this colossal nude, with the massive chest and attenuated legs, reminds us of his manner in old age; whereas the rest of the picture shows no trace of that manner. I am inclined to think that the Entombment was the production of a second-rate craftsman, working upon some design made by Michelangelo at the advanced period when the Passion of our Lord occupied his thoughts in Rome. Even so, the spirit of the drawing must have been imperfectly assimilated; and, what is more puzzling, the composition does not recall the style of Michelangelo's old age. The colouring, so far as we can understand it, rather suggests Pontormo" (The Life of Michelangelo, 1893, i. 68). Sir Edward Poynter, on the other hand, will hear of no doubt: "There is," he says, "no doubt whatever that this picture is the work of the great master. The originality of the composition, the magnificent dignity of the poses, the perfection of the modelling, combined with the profound knowledge and subtle play of the anatomical forms where the work is complete, and the exquisite beauty of the drapery, all stamp it as a work which, if completed, would have been one of the masterpieces of the world, and possible to no one but the great master of design. It is thought desirable to insist on the grand qualities of this picture, because it has been ascribed to Bandinelli, a bombastic sculptor, quite incapable either of the refinement or of the subtle feeling for nature which is evident in all the finished portions of this work" (The National Gallery, i. 72).
[184] According to one of the dramatic critics in the daily press, Sir Henry Irving in playing Richelieu was made up to resemble closely this picture; and (added the critic) the actor brought out the three sides of Richelieu's character here depicted. "At times we see him as the pitiless, unscrupulous man who forced himself from obscurity to a power greater than his monarch's; at others we see the fine courteous gentleman who patronised literature, founded the French Academy, and collaborated in half a dozen bad plays; and there is also not a little of the paltry, small-minded tyrant of whom Corneille said—
Il m'a trop fait de bien pour en dire du mal.
Il m'a trop fait de mal pour en dire du bien."
[185] See Morelli's German Galleries, p. 393. He dismisses the idea of an original Vicentine School as one which "cannot be entertained at all."
[186] "By Gentile Bellini, and not by Giovanni, as stated in the Catalogue. The latter artist drew the ear of a different shape than did his brother Gentile" (Morelli: German Galleries, p. 10 n.). If by Gentile, the signature is forged or altered.
[187] "I subjoin," writes the poet to his mother (December 23, 1880), "a sonnet I have done on the Michelangelo in the National Gallery. In this picture the Virgin is withdrawing from the child the book which contains the prophecy of his sufferings—I suppose that of Isaiah. The idea is a most beautiful one; and behind the group are angels perusing a scroll. Shields was helpful to me in the interpretation of this" (Letters and Memoir, ii. 365).