Titian; a collection of fifteen pictures and a portrait of the painter

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Title: Titian; a collection of fifteen pictures and a portrait of the painter
Author: Hurll, Estelle M. (Estelle May), 1863-1924
Language: English
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* * * * *

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

Titian

_Prado Gallery, Madrid_]

Masterpieces of Art

TITIAN

A COLLECTION OF FIFTEEN PICTURES

AND A PORTRAIT OF THE PAINTER

WITH INTRODUCTION AND

INTERPRETATION

ESTELLE M. HURLL

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

PREFACE

To give proper variety to this little collection, the selections are
equally divided between portraits and "subject" pictures of religious or
legendary character.

The Flora, the Bella and the Philip II. show the painter's most
characteristic work in portraiture, while the Pesaro Madonna, the
Assumption, and the Christ of the Tribute Money stand for his highest
achievement in sacred art.

ESTELLE M. HURLL.

New Bedford, Mass.
March, 1901.

CONTENTS AND LIST OF PICTURES

PAGE

Portrait of Titian. Painted by himself. _Frontispiece._
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

Introduction
I. On Titian's Character as an Artist vii
II. On Books of Reference xi
III. Historical Directory of the Pictures of this Collection xii
IV. Outline Table of the Principal Events in Titian's Life xiv
V. Some of Titian's Contemporaries xvii

I. The Physician Parma 1
Picture from Photograph by Franz Hanfstaengl

II. The Presentation of the Virgin (Detail) 7
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

III. The Empress Isabella 13
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

IV. Madonna and Child with Saints 19
Picture from Photograph by Franz Hanfstaengl

V. Philip II 25
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

VI. St. Christopher 31
Picture from Photograph by D. Anderson

VII. Lavinia 37
Picture from Photograph by Franz Hanfstaengl

VIII. Christ of the Tribute Money 43
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

IX. The Bella 49
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

X. Medea and Venus 55
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

XI. The Man with the Glove 61
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

XII. The Assumption of the Virgin 67
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

XIII. Flora 73
Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.

XIV. The Pesaro Madonna 79
Picture from Photograph by D. Anderson

XV. St. John the Baptist 85
Picture from Photograph by D. Anderson

XVI. The Portrait of Titian 91

Pronouncing Vocabulary of Proper Names and Foreign Words 95

INTRODUCTION

I. ON TITIAN'S CHARACTER AS AN ARTIST.

"There is no greater name in Italian art--therefore no greater in
art--than that of Titian." These words of the distinguished art critic,
Claude Phillips, express the verdict of more than three centuries. It is
agreed that no other painter ever united in himself so many qualities of
artistic merit. Other painters may have equalled him in particular
respects, but "rounded completeness," quoting another critic's phrase,
is "what stamps Titian as a master."[1]

To begin with the qualities which are apparent even in black and white
reproduction, we are impressed at once with the vitality which informs
all his figures. They are breathing human beings, of real flesh and
blood, pulsing with life. They represent all classes and conditions,
from such royal sitters as Charles V. and Philip II. to the peasants and
boatmen who served as models for St. Christopher, St. John, and the
Pharisee of the Tribute Money. They portray, too, every age: the tender
infancy of the Christ child, the girlhood of the Virgin, the dawning
manhood of the Man with the Glove, the maidenhood of Medea, the young
motherhood of Mary, the virile middle life of Venetian Senators, the
noble old age of St. Jerome and St. Peter, each is set vividly before
us.

The list contains no mystics and ascetics: life, and life abundant, is
the keynote of Titian's art. The abnormal finds no place in it. Health
and happiness are to him interchangeable terms.

Yet it must not be supposed that Titian's delineation of life stopped
short with the physical: he was besides a remarkable interpreter of the
inner life. Though not as profound a psychologist as Leonardo or Lotto,
he had at all times a just appreciation of character, and, on occasion,
rose to a supreme touch in its interpretation. In such studies as the
Flora, where he is interested chiefly in working out certain technical
problems, he takes small pains to make anything more of his subject than
a beautiful animal. The Man with the Glove stands at the other end of
the scale. Here we have a personality so individual, and so possessing,
as it were, that the portrait takes rank among the world's masterpieces
of psychic interpretation.

In his best works Titian's sense of the dramatic holds the golden mean
between conventionality and sensationalism. In the group of sacred
personages surrounding the Madonna and Child there is sufficient action
to constitute a reason for their presence,--to relieve the figures of
that artificial and purely spectacular character which they have in
the earlier art,--yet the action is restrained and dignified as befits
the occasion. The pose of both figures in the Christ of the Tribute
Money is in the highest degree dramatic without being in any way
theatrical. The tempered dignity of Titian's dramatic power is also
admirably seen in the Assumption of the Virgin. The apostles' action is
full of passion, yet without violence; the buoyant motion of the Virgin
is unmarred by any exaggeration.

The same painting illustrates Titian's magnificent mastery of
composition. Perhaps the Pesaro Madonna alone of all his other works is
worthy to be classed with it in this respect. It is impossible to
conceive of anything better in composition than these two works. Not a
line in either could be altered without detriment to the organic unity
of the plan.

The crowning excellence of Titian is his color. The chief of the school
in which color was the characteristic quality, he represents all the
best elements in its color work. If others excelled him in single
efforts or in some one respect, none equalled him for sustained
grandeur. A recent criticism sums up his color qualities succinctly in
these words: "He had at once enough of golden strength, enough of depth,
enough of éclat; his color, profound and powerful _per se_, impresses us
more than that of the others, because he brought more of other qualities
to enforce it."[2]

Titian's works easily fall into a few groups, according to the subject
treated. In mythological themes he was in his natural element. Here he
could express the sheer joy of living which was common to the Venetian
and the Greek. Here physical beauty was its own excuse for being,
without recourse to any ulterior significance. Here he could exercise
unhindered his marvellous skill in modelling the human form along those
perfect lines of grace which give Greek sculpture its distinctive
character. It is in his earlier period that his affinity with the Greek
spirit is closest, and we see it in perfect fruition in the Medea and
Venus.

Titian's treatment of sacred subjects is in the diverse moods of his
many-sided artistic nature. The great ceremonial altar pieces, such as
the Assumption of the Virgin, and the Pesaro Madonna, are a perfect
reflection of the religious spirit of his environment. Religion was with
the Venetians a delightful pastime, an occasion for festivals and
pageants, a means of increasing the civic glory. These great decorative
pictures are full of the pomp and magnificence dear to Venice, full of
the joy and pride of life.

Yet in another mood Titian paints the life of the Holy Family as a
pastoral idyl. A sunny landscape, a happy young mother, a laughing baby
boy, bring the sacred subject very near to common human sympathies.

Some of Titian's professedly sacred pictures are in the vein of pure
_genre_, painted in a period when this department of art had not yet
attained independent existence. We see such works in the St. Christopher
and the St. John. These direct studies of the people throw an
interesting light upon the painter of ideal beauty: they show an
otherwise unsuspected vigor.

The Christ of the Tribute Money stands alone in Titian's sacred art. The
technical qualities are thoroughly characteristic of his hand, but a new
note is struck in spiritual feeling. Virile, without coarseness; gentle,
without weakness, the chief figure is perhaps the most intellectual
ideal of Christ which has been conceived in art.

Titian's landscapes, though holding an accessory place only in his art,
are counted by the critical art historian with those of Giorgione, as
the practical beginning of this branch of art. He knew how to express
"the quintessence of nature's most significant beauties without a too
slavish adherence to any special set of natural facts."[3] His
imagination interpreted many of nature's moods, from the pastoral calm
environing Medea and Venus to the stormy grandeur of the forest in which
St. Peter Martyr met his fate.

It is undoubtedly as a portrait-painter that Titian's many great
qualities meet in their utmost perfection. His feeling for textures, the
delicacy with which he painted the hair and the hands; his skill in
modelling; his instinct for pose; the infinite variety of his resources,
made an incomparable equipment in the secondary matters of portrait
painting. To these he added, as we have seen, the two highest essentials
of the art, the power of giving life to his sitter, and the gift of
insight into character.

Nature made him a court painter; he loved to impart to his sitter that
air of noble distinction whose secret he so well understood. Yet he was
too large a man to let this or any other natural preference hamper him.
Something of himself, it is true, he frequently put into his figures,
yet he was at times capable of thoroughly objective work. He stands
perhaps somewhere between the extreme subjectivity of Van Dyck and the
splendid realism of Velasquez. The noble company of his sitters,
emperors, kings, doges, popes, cardinals and bishops, noblemen, poets
and beautiful women, still make their presence felt in the world. Theirs
was a deathless fame on whom the painter conferred the gift of his art.

Titian's temperament was keenly sensitive to the influences of his
environment, and in his extraordinary length of days, Venice passed
through various changes, political, social, artistic and religious,
which left their mark upon his work. One cannot make a random selection
from his pictures and pronounce upon the qualities of his art. The work
of his youth, his maturity, his old age, has each a character of its
own. It is this rounding out of his art life through successive stages
of growth and even of decay that gives the entire body of his works the
character of a living organism.

II. ON BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

The original source of biographical material relating to Titian is in
Vasari's "Lives of the Painters," the best edition of which is the
Foster translation, annotated with critical and explanatory comments by
E. H. and E. W. Blashfield and A. A. Hopkins. The most complete modern
biography is that by Crowe and Cavalcaselle, in two large volumes
(published in 1877), but as this is now out of print, it can be
consulted only in the large libraries. Some of the conclusions of these
writers have been challenged by later critics, Morelli and others, and
should not be accepted without weighing the new arguments. The volume on
"Titian: A Study of his Life and Work," by Claude Phillips, Keeper of
the Wallace Collection, London, is in line with the modern methods of
criticism, and is written in a delightful vein of appreciation. The two
parts of the book, The Earlier Work and The Later Work, correspond to
the two monographs for "The Portfolio," in which the work was first
published.

In the general histories of Italian art, valuable chapters on Titian are
contained in Kugler's "Handbook of the Italian Schools" (to be read in
the latest edition by A. H. Layard) and Mrs. Jameson's "Early Italian
Painters" (to be read in the latest revision by Estelle M. Hurll). A
monograph on Titian is issued in the German Series of Art Monographs,
edited by H. Knackfuss.

Interesting suggestions upon the study of Titian's art will be found in
the following references: In Mrs. Oliphant's "Makers of Venice;" in
Berenson's "Venetian Painters of the Renaissance;" in Symonds's volume
on Fine Arts in the series "Renaissance in Italy." Burckhardt's
"Cicerone" has some valuable pages on Titian, but the book is out of
print. A List of Titian's work is given in Berenson's "Venetian
Painters."

III. HISTORICAL DIRECTORY OF THE PICTURES OF THIS COLLECTION.

_Portrait frontispiece._ Probably the portrait mentioned by Vasari as
painted in 1502. In the Prado Gallery, Madrid. Size: 2 ft. 10 in. by 2
ft. 1-1/2 in.

1. _The Physician Parma._ It appears that there is no direct testimony
to prove the authorship of this picture, the attribution to Titian
having been made by an early director of the gallery, following certain
evidence from Rudolfi. Herr Wickhoff claims the picture for Domenico
Campagnola, and the recent biographer of Giorgione (Herbert Cook)
includes it among the works of that painter. The attribution to Titian
is, however, not disputed by the two severest of modern critics, Morelli
and Berenson. In the Vienna Gallery. Size: 3 ft. 6 in. by 2 ft. 7 in.

2. _The Presentation of the Virgin (Detail)._ Painted for the
brotherhood of S. Maria della Carità, and now in the Venice Academy.
Date assigned by Berenson 1540. Size of entire picture: 11 ft. 5 in. by
25 ft. 6-1/2 in.

3. _The Empress Isabella._ Probably one of the two pictures referred to
in a letter of 1544 from Titian to Charles V. In the Prado Gallery,
Madrid. Size: 3 ft. 10 in. by 3 ft. 2-1/2 in.

4. _Madonna and Child with Saints._ An early work in the Vienna Gallery,
similar to a picture in the Louvre, to which it is considered superior
by Crowe and Cavalcaselle. Called an "atelier repetition" by Claude
Phillips. Size: 3 ft. 5 in. by 4 ft. 3 in.

5. _Philip II._ Painted 1550, and now in the Prado Gallery, Madrid.
Size: 6 ft. 4 in. by 3 ft. 7-3/4 in.

6. _St. Christopher._ Painted in fresco on the wall of the Doge's
Palace, Venice, in honor of the arrival of the French army at San
Cristoforo (near Milan), 1523. Ordered by the doge Andrea Gritti, who
was a partisan of the French.

7. _Lavinia._ Painted about 1550, and now in the Berlin Gallery. Size: 3
ft. 3-1/2 in. by 2 ft. 7-1/2 in.

8. _Christ of the Tribute Money._ According to Vasari, painted for Duke
Alfonso of Ferrara in 1514 for door of a press. Assigned by Crowe and
Cavalcaselle to the year 1518, the date accepted by Morelli. In the
Dresden Gallery. Size: 2 ft. 5-1/2 in. by 1 ft. 10 in.

9. _The Bella._ Painted about 1535. In the Pitti Gallery, Florence.
Size: 3 ft. 3-1/2 in. by 2 ft. 6 in.

10. _Medea and Venus._ Date unknown, but fixed approximately by Morelli
between 1510 and 1512. In the Borghese Gallery, Rome. Size: 3 ft. 5 in.
by 8 ft. 8 in.

11. _The Man with the Glove._ Assigned to Titian's middle period. In the
Louvre, Paris. Size: 3 ft. 3-1/3 in. by 2 ft. 11 in.

12. _The Assumption of the Virgin (Detail)._ Ordered 1516 for high altar
of S. Maria Gloriosa de' Frari, Venice. Shown to public, March 20, 1518.
Now in the Venice Academy. Size: 22 ft. 9 in. by 11 ft. 10-1/2 in.

13. _Flora._ Painted after 1523. In the Uffizi Gallery, Florence. Size:
3 ft. 8-1/2 in. by 3 ft. 1-1/2 in.

14. _The Pesaro Madonna._ Finished in 1526 after being seven years in
process. Still in original place in the Church of the Frari, Venice.

15. _St. John the Baptist._ Painted in 1556. In the Venice Academy.
Size: 6 ft. 5 in. by 4 ft. 5 in.

IV. OUTLINE TABLE OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS IN TITIAN'S LIFE.[4]

1477. Titian born at Cadore in the Friuli, north of Venice.

Circa 1488. Removal to Venice.

Bet. 1507-1508. Work on frescoes of Fondaca de' Tedeschi with
Giorgione.

1511. In Padua and Vicenza. Frescoes in the Scuola del Santo, Padua.

Circa 1512. Marriage.

1516. Assumption of the Virgin begun for the Church of the Frari,
Venice.

Titian's first connection with Alfonso I. and the Court of
Ferrara.

1518. Assumption finished.

1519. Visit in Ferrara, and the Bacchanal, now in the Madrid Gallery.

1522. Altarpiece for Brescia, and short visit there.

1523. Visits at Mantua and Ferrara.

1524. Visit in Ferrara.

Circa 1525. Birth of Titian's son Pomponio.

1526. Pesaro Madonna.

1528. Visit in Ferrara.

1530. Visit in Bologna.

St. Peter Martyr delivered April 27, for Church of SS. Giovanni
e Paolo, Venice.

Death of Titian's wife.

1531. Visit in Ferrara.

Removal from town to suburban residence in Biri.

1532. Summons to court of Charles V. at Bologna. Portraits of
the Emperor.

1536. With the Emperor at Astic.

1537. Portraits of Duke and Duchess of Urbino and the Battle of
Cadore. Paintings in Hall of Council of Venice (destroyed
by fire 1577).

1540. Visit to Mantua to attend the funeral of patron Duke Federico
Gonzaga.

1541. Appointment with Emperor at Milan.

1543. Guest of Cardinal Farnese at Ferrara and Brussels.

Portraits of Cardinal Farnese and Pope Paul III.

1544. Two portraits of the dead Empress Isabella sent to Charles V.

1545. Visit to Rome, and portraits of Paul III. and his grandsons.

1546. Departure from Rome, visit to Florence and return to Venice.

1547. Completion of altarpiece of Serravalle.

1548. Journey to Augsburg to meet Charles V., and equestrian portrait
of the Emperor.

To Milan to meet Prince Philip and Duke of Alva. Portrait
of Alva.

1549. Purchase of the house at Biri, formerly rented.

1550. Visit to court at Augsburg, and portraits of Philip II.

1554. Pictures completed and sent to Charles V. and Philip II.
in Spain: The Virgin Lamenting, the Trinity, the Danaë.

Venus and Adonis sent to London to Philip upon marriage with
Mary Tudor.

1555. Marriage of Titian's daughter Lavinia.

Perseus and Andromeda sent to King Philip.

1556. St. John the Baptist, painted for S. Maria Maggiore.

1559. Entombment sent to Philip.

1562. Christ in the Garden, and the Europa. Last Supper begun.

1563. Visit to Brescia.

1565. Visit to Cadore, and plans for frescoes in the Pieve church.

1567. Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, and a Venus sent to Madrid.

1572. Visit from Cardinals Granvelle and Pacheco.

1574. Visit from Henry III. of France.

Allegory of Lepanto finished for Philip II.

1575. Pieta begun.

1576. Death of Titian from plague at Venice.

V. SOME OF TITIAN'S CONTEMPORARIES.

RULERS.

_Emperors_:--

Maximilian I. of Germany, 1493-1519.
Charles V. of Germany (I. of Spain) crowned Holy Roman Emperor,
1520. Died 1558.

_Kings_:--

Philip II. son and successor of Charles V., accession, 1556;
death, 1598.
Henry VIII. of England, reigned 1509-1547.
Edward VI. " " 1547-1553.
Mary Tudor " " 1553-1558.
Elizabeth " " 1558-1603.
Francis I. of France, " 1515-1547.
Henry II. " " 1547-1559.

Catherine de' Medici real ruler of France in reigns of Francis II.
and Charles IX., 1559-1574.

_Popes_:--

Sixtus IV., 1471. Paul III., 1534.
Innocent VIII., 1485. Julius III., 1550.
Alexander VI., 1492. Marcellus II., 1555.
Pius III., 1503. Paul IV., 1555.
Julius II., 1503. Pius IV., 1559.
Leo N., 1513. Pius V., 1566.
Adrian VI., 1522. Gregory XIII., 1572.
Clement VII., 1523.

_Doges of Venice_:--

Giov. Mocenigo, 1478. Francesco Donato, 1545.
Marco Barbarigo, 1485. Marco Trevisan, 1553.
Agostino Barbarigo, 1486. Francesco Venier, 1554.
Leonardo Loredan, 1501. Lorenzo Priuli, 1556.
Antonio Grimani, 1521. Girolamo Priuli, 1559.
Andrea Gritti, 1523. Pietro Loredan, 1567.
Pietro Lando, 1528. Alvise Mocenigo I., 1570.

_Painters_:--

Giovanni Bellini, 1428-1516.
Perugino, 1446-1523.
Leonardo da Vinci, 1452-1519.
Michelangelo, 1475-1564.
Bazzi (II Sodoma), 1477-1549.
Giorgione, 1477-1510.
Palma Vecchio, 1480-1528.
Raphael, 1483-1520.
Sebastian del Piombo, 1485-1547.
Andrea del Sarto, 1486-1531.
Correggio, 1494-1534.
Giorgio Vasari, 1512-1574.
Tintoretto, 1518-1594.
Paolo Veronese, 1528-1588.

_Men of Letters_:--

Ariosto, 1474-1533, poet.
Aretino, 1492-1557, poet.
Tasso, 1544-1595, poet.
Pietro Bembo, 1470-1547, cardinal and master of Latin style.
Jacopo Sadoleto, 1477-1547, cardinal and writer of Latin verses.
Baldassare Castiglione, 1478-1529, diplomatist and scholar.
Aldo Manuzio, 1450-1515, printer; established press at Venice, 1490.
Guicciardini, 1483-1540, historian.

THE PHYSICIAN PARMA

We are about to study a few pictures reproduced from the works of a
great Venetian painter of the sixteenth century,--Titian. The span of
this man's life covered nearly a hundred years, from 1477 to 1576, a
period when Venice was a rich and powerful city. The Venetians were a
pleasure-loving people, fond of pomp and display. They delighted in
sumptuous entertainments, and were particularly given to pageants. We
read of the picturesque processions that paraded the square of St.
Mark's, or floated in gondolas along the grand canal. The city was full
of fine buildings, palaces, churches, and public halls. Their richly
ornamented fronts of colored marbles, bordering the blue water of the
canals, made a brilliant panorama of color. The buildings were no less
beautiful within than without, being filled with the splendid paintings
of the Venetian masters.

The pictures in the churches and monasteries illustrated sacred story
and the fives of the saints; those in the public halls depicted
historical and allegorical themes, while the private palaces were
adorned with mythological scenes and portraits.

Titian engaged in works of all these kinds, and seemed equally skilful
in each. The great number and variety of his pictures bring vividly
before us the manners and customs of his times. His art is like a great
mirror in which Venice of the sixteenth century is clearly reflected in
all her magnificence. As we study our little prints, we must bear in
mind that the original paintings glow with rich and harmonious color. As
far as possible let us try to supply this lost color from our
imagination.

Nearly all the notable personages of the time sat to Titian for their
portraits,--emperors, queens, and princes, popes, and cardinals, the
doges, or dukes, of Venice, noblemen, poets, and fair women. Wearing the
costumes of a bygone age, these men and women look out of their canvases
as if they were still living, breathing human beings. The painter
endowed them with the magic gift of immortality. Though the names of
many of the sitters are now forgotten, and we know little or nothing of
their lives, they are still real persons to us, with their life history
written on their faces.

Such is the man called Parma, who is believed to have been a physician
of Titian's time, but whose only biography is this portrait. If we were
told that it was the portrait of some eminent physician now practising
in New York or London, we should perhaps be equally ready to believe it.
We might meet such a figure in our streets to-morrow. There is nothing
in the costume to mark it as peculiar to any century or country. The
black gown is such as is still worn by clergymen and university men. The
man would not have to be pointed out to us as a celebrity; we should
know him at once as a person of distinction.

[Illustration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo. John Andrew & Son. Sc.

THE PHYSICIAN PARMA

Vienna Gallery]

The science of medicine was making great progress during the sixteenth
century. It was then that the subject of anatomy was first developed by
the celebrated Fleming, Vesalius, court physician to Charles V.[5] In
this period, also, the science of chemistry first came to be separated
from alchemy, and progressive physicians applied the new learning to
their practice.

We may be sure that our Doctor Parma belonged to the most enlightened
class of his profession. His strong: intellectual face shows him to be
one who would have little patience with quackery or superstition. He has
a high, noble forehead, keen, penetrating eyes, and a firm mouth. His
beautiful white hair gives him a venerable aspect, though he is not of
great age. It blows about his face as fine and light as gossamer. He is
an ideal "family physician," of a generation ago. We can imagine how
children would learn to look upon him with love and respect, perhaps
also with a little wholesome fear.

The hand which holds the folds of the long, black gown has a character
of its own as definite as that of the face. It is a strong, firm hand,
which looks capable of guiding skilfully a surgeon's knife.

Two fine seal rings ornament it. Such rings, sometimes of curious design
and workmanship, were often bestowed as gifts by wealthy noblemen upon
those who had done them some service.

The doctor Parma looks as good as he is wise. This benign face would
grace an assembly of notable clergymen. Indeed, the picture suggests a
well-known portrait of the great John Wesley, whose features were cast
in the same strong mould, and who also had an abundance of bushy white
hair.

By another play of the fancy we could imagine this a portrait of some
eminent judge. There is that in the face which indicates the calm,
impartial, deliberate mind that belongs to the character. He might now
be about to charge the jury, or perhaps even to pronounce sentence.

Still another opinion is that here we have a Venetian senator in his
official robes. The man is in any case an ideal professional man, a
person of brains and character, who could fill equally well a position
of responsibility in medicine, law, administrative affairs, or divinity.
With a strict sense of justice, a stern contempt for anything mean and
base, and a fatherly tenderness for the weak and oppressed, he is one in
whom we could safely put confidence.

THE PRESENTATION OF THE VIRGIN

(_Detail_)

In the town of Nazareth many centuries ago lived a pious old couple,
named Joachim and Anna. It is said that they "divided all their
substance in three parts: " one part "for the temple," another for "the
poor and pilgrims," and the third for themselves. The delight of their
old age was their only child Mary, who afterwards became the mother of
Jesus. She had been born, as they believed, in answer to their prayers,
and they cherished her with peculiar devotion.

That Mary was a good and lovable child beyond common measure we can have
no doubt: she was set apart for a strange and holy service. The
beautiful story of her early life is told in an old Latin book called
the "Legenda Aurea," or the "Golden Legend." This was a collection of
old legends written out for the first time by Jacopo de Voragine, an
Italian archbishop of the thirteenth century. The early English
translation by Caxton, in which we still read the book, preserves the
quaint flavor of the original. There is one portion of it describing the
dedication, or presentation, of the Virgin in the temple. Before Mary
was born, the mother, Anna, had promised the angel of the Lord that she
would present the coming child as an offering to the Lord. Long before
her day, a certain Hannah had made a like vow under similar
circumstances. Her son Samuel, a "child obtained by petition," was
"returned," or "lent," to the Lord as long as he lived.[6] A child thus
dedicated was early carried to the temple to be educated within its
precincts for special service to God.

The presentation of Mary was on this wise: "And then when she had
accomplished the time of three years ... they brought her to the temple
with offerings. And there was about the temple, after the fifteen psalms
of degrees, fifteen steps or grees to ascend up to the temple, because
the temple was high set. And nobody might go to the altar of sacrifices
that was without, but by the degrees. And then our Lady was set on the
lowest step; and mounted up without any help as she had been of perfect
age, and when they had performed their offering, they left their
daughter in the temple with the other virgins, and they returned into
their place. And the Virgin Mary profited every day in all holiness, and
was visited daily by angels, and had every day divine visions."[7] We
see at once the picture there is in the story, the little girl ascending
alone the long flight of steps, with the fond parents gazing after her
in wonder. Many artists have put the subject on canvas, and among them
our Venetian painter Titian. His is an immense picture, from which the
central figure only is reproduced in our illustration.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son, Sc.

THE PRESENTATION OF THE VIRGIN (DETAIL)

_Venice Academy_]

We must imagine ourselves standing with a great throng of people in the
public square in front of the temple. Men, women and children jostle one
another near the steps. The old man Joachim and his wife Anna are easily
singled out among the number. The windows of the adjoining palaces are
full of faces looking into the square. A group of senators stand
somewhat apart, looking on. An old peasant woman with a basket of eggs
sits in the shadow of the steps. All eyes are turned towards the little
child who is walking alone up the great stone staircase. On the topmost
step the high priest advances to meet her, resplendent in his rich
priestly garments.

The figure of the little Virgin is very quaint in a long gown made of
some shimmering blue stuff. The golden hair is brushed back primly and
woven into a heavy braid, whence it at last escapes in beautiful
profusion. It would be hard to guess the child's age, for her demeanor
is that of a little woman as she gathers her long skirt daintily in her
right hand. She carries herself erect in the new dignity of the great
moment, and advances with perfect self-confidence. The face, however, is
quite childlike and innocent, and is lifted to the priest's with a
happy smile. The left arm is raised in a gesture of wonder and delight.

The whole figure is surrounded by a halo of golden light. This is the
oval-shaped glory which the Italians call the _mandorla_, from the word
meaning "almond." It is of course the symbol of the virgin's peculiar
sanctity. The painter has not tried to make the little girl particularly
pretty, but he gives her the indescribable charm which we call
winsomeness. She is perhaps one of the most lovable children art has
ever produced.

As we study the artist's method of work in the picture we see how very
simply the figure is drawn. Titian was fond of rich and voluminous
draperies, as we shall learn from several examples which are to follow.
Here, however, he draws a dress with tight sleeves and scanty skirt
absolutely without decoration of any sort. It is this simplicity which
gives the childlike appearance to the figure.

There is a pathos in the little figure which we cannot altogether
appreciate in our illustration. We have to remember that the whole
picture measures twenty-five feet in width by eleven in height, and then
imagine how tiny the child looks ascending alone the great staircase in
the centre of this vast panorama. The isolation of the figure suggests
the singular destiny of Mary, set apart from others in the loneliness of
a unique service.

III

THE EMPRESS ISABELLA

The most illustrious of Titian's many patrons was the Emperor Charles
V., whose wife was the Empress Isabella of our portrait. This powerful
monarch had inherited from one grandfather, Ferdinand, the kingdom of
Spain, and from another, Maximilian, the empire of Germany. His marriage
was arranged chiefly for political reasons, but proved to be a happy
one.

Isabella was the daughter of Emmanuel the Great, late King of Portugal,
and the sister of John III., the reigning king. She was a princess of
uncommon beauty and accomplishments. The Portuguese government bestowed
a superb dowry of nine hundred thousand crowns upon her, and the
marriage was celebrated in Seville in 1526. The ceremony was splendid,
and there were great festivities following.

Soon after, the emperor travelled with his bride through Andalusia and
Granada that he might see his new kingdom. Called at last to other parts
of his dominion, he left Isabella as regent in Spain, and went to Italy,
where in 1532 he first called Titian into service to paint his portrait.
In the years that followed the painter found the emperor a constant and
generous patron, and was frequently summoned to meet the court at
various places. In the meantime, however, the lovely empress never had
had a sitting to the first painter of the day. She stayed quietly at
home and had her portrait painted by such inferior artists as were at
hand.

When she died in 1539 Charles was left disconsolate, without any
satisfactory portrait of her beloved face. He accordingly sent to Titian
a portrait of her painted at the age of twenty-four, and required him to
use it as the basis of a picture. The painter obeyed, and soon sent, his
royal patron two canvases, begging him to return them with criticisms if
he wished any changes made. As they were never sent back we infer that
Charles found them as much like the original as could have been
expected. The fame of Isabella's beauty and goodness had of course come
to the painter's knowledge, and this was perhaps a better inspiration
than the old portrait which was his guide. Certainly the picture he
produced shows a winning personality.

The empress is seated near a window, holding a little book open in one
hand, probably a prayer-book or Book of Hours. The lady is not reading,
but gazes somewhat pensively before her, as if thinking over the
familiar words. The face is gentle and refined, and has an innocent
purity of expression like that of a child.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

THE EMPRESS ISABELLA

_Prado Gallery, Madrid_]

The features are small, and modelled with an almost doll-like
regularity. Yet the mouth is set firmly enough to indicate a strong will
behind it. Isabella was indeed a woman of remarkable self-control. A
story is told that once when ill and in great pain she turned her face
in the shadow that none might see her suffer, and uttered no sound of
complaining. Her nurses remonstrated, but she replied firmly, "Die I
may, but wail I will not."

The costume of a Spanish queen of the sixteenth century naturally
interests us. Apparently Spanish Court etiquette of the period dictated
a dress made with high neck and long sleeves. The bodice is of red
velvet, the loose sleeves lined with satin. The under bodice, which we
should call a _guimpe_, is of white muslin with gold fillets. A jewel
adorns the red hair, and a long necklace of pearls is caught on the
bosom with a pendant of rubies and emeralds. The careful dressing of the
hair, the strict propriety of the gown, and the attitude of the queen
herself suggest the regard of conventionality which governed the great
lady.

What the portrait lacks is the quality of lifelikeness which makes other
pictures by Titian so wonderful.[8] Naturally the painter could not so
easily impart vitality to the picture when not working directly from the
living model. To make up, as it were, for this defect, he painted the
various textures of the dress with marvellous skill. Satin, velvet, and
muslin, each is distinguished by its own peculiar lustre.

The bit of landscape seen through the window is another beautiful part
of the picture. The distance gives depth to the composition and avoids
the crowded effect it might otherwise have. We shall see a similar
setting again in the portrait of Lavinia.

The Emperor had been very fond of his wife, and an old historian says
that "he treated her on all occasions with much distinction and regard."
If this seems nothing surprising to note, we must remember that at the
same period Henry VIII. of England was treating his queens quite
differently.

In the last years of his life Charles V., weary of the cares of
government, relinquished his kingdom to his son. He retired to the
convent of Yuste to end his days, taking with him this portrait of his
wife. When he lay on his death-bed he asked to see the picture, and when
at last he died his body was laid to rest beside Isabella. Their son,
Philip II., whose portrait we are presently to study, succeeded to a
portion of his father's dominion.

MADONNA AND CHILD WITH SAINTS

There was never a child so longed for as the Child Jesus, and none whose
infancy has been held in such loving remembrance. Centuries before his
birth the prophets of Israel preached to the people of his coming. Year
after year men waited eagerly for One who would teach them the way of
righteousness. On the night when he was born the angels of heaven
appeared in the sky with the glad tidings. His birthday ushered in a new
era.

We all know the story of his infancy in the Bethlehem manger, of his
boyhood in the little town of Nazareth, of the years of his ministry
throughout Judea, and of his crucifixion on Calvary. The narrative of
his life was written by the four evangelists, and has been told in
nearly every part of the world.

Many of the great painters have drawn the subjects of their best
pictures from the story in the Gospels. A favorite subject has been the
mother Mary holding the Babe in her arms, as in our illustration. To
understand why the other figures are included in the scene, a few words
of explanation are necessary.

In the early days of Christianity the followers of the new faith had to
endure great persecutions, and many laid down their lives for their
Master. The religious liberty we enjoy to-day is due to the courage and
loyalty of these early saints and martyrs. Much, too, is due to the work
of those teachers who are called the Fathers of the church. These saints
and heroes of the olden time have been honored in art and song and
story. It is fitting to associate their memory with that of him to whom
they gave their lives. This is the reason why in pictures of the Mother
and Child Jesus we often see them standing by.

Such pictures do not represent any actual historical event. The various
persons represented may not even be contemporaries. It is in a
devotional and not a literal sense that they worship the Christ child
together.

In our picture the Mother tends her Babe at one side while three saints
form an attendant company. The nearest is St. Stephen, the young man
"full of faith and power," who did "great wonders and miracles among the
people" of Jerusalem in the apostolic days. When false witnesses accused
him of blasphemy his face was like "the face of an angel." Nevertheless,
when his accusers heard his defence they were angry at his frank
denunciations, and casting him out of the city, stoned him to death.[9]

[Illustration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

MADONNA AND CHILD WITH SAINTS

_Vienna Gallery_]

The old man standing next is St. Jerome, one of the Latin fathers of the
fourth century. He was both a preacher and a writer, and his greatest
service to the world was his translation of the Bible into Latin (the
Vulgate). This is the book from which he is now reading, and St. George
seems to look over his shoulder. St. George is the hero saint who
rescued the princess Cleodolinda from the dragon. He suffered many
tortures at the orders of the Emperor Diocletian, and was finally
beheaded for his faith.[10]

We learn to identify these and other saints in the old pictures by
certain features which the masters long ago agreed upon as appropriate
to the characters. St. Stephen we recognize here because he is young,
and carries a palm as the symbol of his martyrdom. St. Jerome is always
an old man and is known here by his book, and St. George is
distinguished by his armor.

The three make an interesting group as they represent three ages of
man,--youth, maturity, and old age. They stand, too, for distinctly
different temperaments. St. Stephen has the ardent imaginative nature of
a dreamer, St. George the active prosaic temper of the warrior, and St.
Jerome the grave contemplative mind of the scholar. Each serves the
Christ with his own gift.

In the picture the three seem to be reading together some passage
referring to the birth of Christ, perhaps that glorious verse from the
prophet Isaiah, "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given."
Coming to the words "Wonderful, Counsellor," St. Stephen lifts his face
adoringly.

The Child is innocently unconscious of his grave guests. He lies across
his mother's lap kicking his feet gleefully and looking up to her with a
playful, appealing gesture. She bends over him smiling, and the two seem
to talk together in the mystic language of babyhood. The artist, we see,
painted the mother as beautiful and the child as winsome as he could
well imagine them. He did not try to discover how a woman of Judea was
likely to have looked centuries before. He preferred to think of Mary as
one of the beautiful Venetian women of his own day. He may have seen
some real mother and babe who suggested the picture to him, but in that
case he painted them largely according to his own fancy. The Madonna's
dress is not according to any Venetian fashions, but in the simple style
chosen as most appropriate by old masters. Red and blue were the colors
always used in her draperies, and it was also an ancient custom to
represent her as wearing a veil over her head as befitting her modesty.

The mother has the fresh comely look of perfect health, yet with much
delicacy and refinement in her gentle face. Both she and the babe seem
to rejoice in abounding health and vitality. The picture is full of the
joy of life.

PHILIP II

Philip II. was the son of the Emperor Charles V. and the Empress
Isabella, whose portrait we have seen. He had therefore, like most
princes, a union of several nationalities in his lineage. Upon his birth
in 1527, all Spain rejoiced that there was now an heir to the throne.
Charles himself counted eagerly upon the help his son would give him in
the administration of his vast dominions.

From the first Philip was a grave and thoughtful child, pursuing his
studies first with his mother and then with a tutor. When he was twelve
years old his mother died; and two years later his father, who had
scarcely seen the boy, returned to Spain, and devoted himself for a
while to teaching him the principles of government. Philip was an apt
pupil, and showed great fondness for statesmanship.

At the age of sixteen a great responsibility fell upon the young prince.
Charles was called to Germany and left Philip as regent of Spain. A
marriage had already been arranged between the youth and his cousin Mary
of Portugal, and this took place soon after the Emperor's departure.
Philip's regency was eminently successful, and he won the lasting
affection and loyalty of the Spanish people.

The Emperor now planned that the prince should make a journey through
the empire to become acquainted with his future subjects. The Spanish
parted with him reluctantly, and he set forth accompanied by a great
train of courtiers. Six months he was on his way, everywhere greeted by
festivals, banquets and tourneys. Philip, being of a reticent and sombre
nature, had little taste for these festivities, but having political
ambition, submitted as gracefully as possible. At length he made a state
entry into Brussels. This was in 1548; and in the two years that
followed, the emperor and prince were together, planning their future
policy of government. The lessons which Charles most deeply impressed
upon Philip were those of self-repression, patience and distrust. The
leading element in his policy was to be absolute ruler.

It was at the close of these two years, that is, in 1550, that the
emperor, attending a diet in Augsburg, summoned thither Titian to paint
the portrait of Philip. The prince was now in his twenty-fourth year,
and stood, as it were, on the threshold of his great career. There could
scarcely be a more unattractive subject for a portrait. Philip had a
poor figure, with narrow chest and large ungainly feet, and his features
were exceedingly ill-formed. His eyes were large and bulging, he had a
projecting jaw and full fleshy lips which his scanty beard could not
conceal. Titian, however, had the great artist's gift of making the most
of a subject. We forget all Philip's defects when we look at this
magnificent portrait.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son, Sc.

PHILIP II.

_Prado Gallery, Madrid_]

The skill with which the splendid costume is painted would alone make
the picture a great work of art. Philip wears a breastplate and hip
pieces of armor, richly inlaid with gold, slashed embroidered hose, as
the short trousers are called, white silk tights and white slippers. The
collar of the Golden Fleece is the crowning ornament.

The attitude of the prince is full of dignity. He stands in front of a
table on which his helmet and gauntlets are laid. The right hand rests
on the helmet, and the left holds the hilt of the rapier which hangs at
his side.

The most remarkable quality in the portrait is the impression of royalty
it conveys. Though Philip has little to boast of in good looks, he has
inherited from generations of royal ancestors that indefinable air of
distinction which belongs to his station. It is this which the painter
has expressed in his attitude and bearing.

Young as the face is, with little of life's experience to give it
individuality, the painter makes it a revelation of the leading elements
in Philip's character. The seriousness of the boy has developed into the
habitual gravity of the man. Already we see how well the father's
lessons have been learned, how self-contained and cautious the prince
has become. The affairs of state seem to weigh heavily upon him.

The proportions of the figure to the size and shape of the canvas add
something to the apparent height of Philip. Titian has done everything a
painter could do to give an ill-favored prince an appearance befitting
his royal prestige: it is a kingly portrait.

Three years after it was painted, the picture was sent to England to be
shown to Queen Mary. Philip, now a widower, had become a suitor of the
English queen. The report came that Mary was "greatly enamoured" of the
portrait, and the marriage was soon after effected. Philip, however, did
not win great favor with the English, and after Mary's death he chose a
French princess for his next wife, and spent his life in Spain.

Upon the abdication of his father, he became the most powerful monarch
in Europe, and had the best armies of his time. He was constantly at war
with other nations, usually two or more at a time, and by undertaking
too many schemes often failed. It was during his reign that the
Netherlands were lost to Spain, and the famous Spanish Armada was
destroyed by the English.

SAINT CHRISTOPHER

There was once in the land of Canaan a giant named Offero, which means
"the bearer." His colossal size and tremendous strength made him an
object of terror to all beholders, and he determined to serve none but
the most powerful being in the world.

He accordingly joined the retinue of a great king, and for a while all
went well. One day while listening to a minstrel's song, the king
trembled and crossed himself every time the singer mentioned the Devil.
"Then," thought Offero, "there is one more powerful than the King; and
he it is whom I should serve." So he went in search of the Devil, and
soon entered the ranks of his army.

One day as they came to a wayside cross he noticed his master tremble
and turn aside. "Then," thought Offero, "there is one more powerful than
the Devil, and he it is whom I should serve." He now learned that this
greater being whom the Devil feared was Jesus, who died on the cross,
and he earnestly sought to know the new Master.

An old hermit undertook to instruct him in the faith. "You must fast,"
said he. "That I will not," said Offero, "lest I lose my strength."
"You must pray," said the hermit. "That I cannot," said Offero. "Then,"
said the hermit, "go to the river side and save those who perish in the
stream." "That I will," said Offero joyfully.

The giant built him a hut on the bank and rooted up a palm tree from the
forest to use as a staff. Day and night he guided strangers across the
ford and carried the weak on his shoulders. He never wearied of his
labor.

One night as he rested in his hut he heard a child's voice calling to
him from the shore, "Offero, come forth, and carry me over." He arose
and went out, but seeing nothing returned and lay down. Again the voice
called, "Offero, come forth and carry me over." Again he went out and
saw no one. A third time the voice came, "Offero, come forth, and carry
me over."

The giant now took a lantern, and by its light found a little child
sitting on the bank, repeating the cry, "Offero, carry me over." Offero
lifted the child to his great shoulders, and taking his staff strode
into the river. The wind blew, the waves roared, and the water rose
higher and higher, yet the giant pushed bravely on. The burden which had
at first seemed so light grew heavier and heavier. Offero's strong knees
bent under him, and it seemed as if he would sink beneath the load. Yet
on he pressed with tottering steps, never complaining, until at last the
farther bank was reached. Here he set his precious burden gently down,
and looking with wonder at the child, asked, "Who art thou, child? The
burden of the world had not been heavier." "Wonder not," said the Child,
"for thou hast borne on thy shoulders him who made the world." Then a
bright light shone about the little face, and in another moment the
mysterious stranger had vanished. Thus was it made known to Offero that
he had been taken into the service of the most powerful being in the
world. From this time forth he was known as Christ-offero, or
Christopher, the Christ-bearer.[11]

[Illustration: D. Anderson, photo.

SAINT CHRISTOPHER]

With this story in mind we readily see the meaning of our picture. The
giant has reached mid-stream, with his tiny passenger perched astride
his shoulders. Already the burden has become mysteriously heavy, and
Offero bends forward to support the strain, staying himself with his
great staff. He lifts his face to the child's with an expression of
mingled anguish and wonder.

The situation is full of strange pathos. The babe seems so small and
helpless beside the splendid muscular strength of the brawny giant. Yet
he is here the leader. With uplifted hand he seems to be cheering his
bearer on the toilsome way.

The figures in the picture seem to be taken from common every-day life.
Some Venetian boatman may have been the painter's model for St.
Christopher, whose attitude is similar to that of a gondolier plying his
oar. The child, too, is a child of the people, a sturdy little fellow,
quite at ease in his perilous position. We shall understand better the
range of Titian's art by contrasting these more commonplace figures
with the refined and elegant types we see in some of our other
illustrations.

The picture of St. Christopher is a fresco painting on the walls of the
palace of the doges or dukes in Venice. It was originally designed to
celebrate the arrival of the French army in 1523, at an Italian town
called San Cristoforo. It is so placed that it might be the first object
seen every morning when the doge left his bed-chamber. This was on
account of an old tradition that the sight of St. Christopher always
gives courage to the beholder. "Whoever shall behold the image of St.
Christopher, on that day shall not faint or fail," runs an old Latin
inscription.

As fresco painting was a method of art comparatively unfamiliar to
Titian, it is interesting to know than an eminent critic pronounces our
picture "broad and solid in execution, rich and brilliant in color."[12]
We see from our reproduction that the paint has flaked from the wall in
a few places.

VII

LAVINIA

Something of the home life of Titian must be known in order to
understand the loving care which he bestowed upon this portrait of his
daughter Lavinia. The painter's works were in such demand that he could
afford to live in a costly manner. He had a true Venetian's love of
luxury, and liked to surround himself with elegant things. His society
was sought by rich noblemen, and he himself lived like a prince.

When somewhat over fifty years of age Titian removed to a spot just
outside Venice in the district of Biri, where he laid out a beautiful
garden. The view from Casa Grande, as the house was called, was very
extensive, looking across the lagoon to the island of Murano and the
hills of Ceneda. Here Titian entertained his guests with lavish
hospitality. A distinguished scholar of that time, one Priscianese, who
had come to Venice in 1540 to publish a grammar, describes how he was
entertained there: "Before the tables were set out," he writes, ... "we
spent the time in looking at the lively figures in the excellent
pictures, of which the house was full, and in discussing the real beauty
and charm of the garden.... In the meanwhile came the hour for supper,
which was no less beautiful and well arranged than copious and well
provided. Besides the most delicate viands and precious wines, there
were all those pleasures and amusements that are suited to the season,
the guests and the feast.... The sea, as soon as the sun went down,
swarmed with gondolas, adorned with beautiful women, and resounded with
the varied harmony of music of voices and instruments, which till
midnight accompanied our delightful supper."

The darling of this beautiful home at Casa Grande was the painter's
daughter Lavinia, and the portrait shows how she looked in 1549. Her
mother had died before the removal of the family to Biri, and the aunt,
who had since tried to fill the vacant place, died about the time this
portrait was painted. A new responsibility had therefore fallen upon the
young girl, and she was now her father's chief consolation. It is
thought that the picture was painted for Titian's friend Argentina
Pallavicino of Reggio. As a guest at her father's house this gentleman
must often have seen and admired the charming girl, and the portrait was
a pleasant souvenir of his visits.

Lavinia is seen carrying a silver salver of fruit, turning, as she goes,
to look over her shoulder. The open country stretches before her, and it
is as if she were stepping from a portico of the house to the garden
terrace to bring the fruit to some guest. She is handsomely dressed, as
her father would like to see his daughter. The gown is of yellow
flowered brocade, the bodice edged with jewelled cording. Over the neck
is thrown a delicate scarf of some gauzy stuff, the ends floating down
in front. An ornamental gold tiara is set on the wavy auburn hair, an
ear-ring hangs from the pretty ear, and a string of pearls encircles the
neck. Imagine the figure against a deep red curtain, and you have in
mind the whole color scheme of this richly decorative picture.

[Illustration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo. John Andrew & Son. Sc.

LAVINIA

_Berlin Gallery_]

Lavinia, however, would be attractive in any dress, with her fresh young
beauty and simple unconscious grace. Her features are not modelled in
classic lines: the charm of the face is its fresh color, the pretty
curves of the plump cheek, and, above all, the sweet open expression.
The hands are delicate and shapely, as of one well born and gently
reared. Lavinia is perhaps not a very intellectual person, but she has a
sweet sunny nature and is full of life and spirits. It would seem
impossible to be sad or lonely in her cheery company. She holds her
precious burden high, with an air of triumph, and turns with a smile to
see it duly admired. The delicious fruit certainly makes a tempting
display. The girl's innocent round face and arch pose remind one of a
playful kitten.

The painter has chosen a graceful and unusual attitude. The curves of
the outstretched arms serve as counterbalancing lines to the main lines
of the figure. The artist himself was so pleased with the pose that he
repeated it in another picture, where Lavinia assumes the gruesome rôle
of Salome, and carries in her salver, in place of the fruit, the head of
St. John the Baptist!

A few years after our portrait was painted, Lavinia was betrothed to
Cornelio Sarcinelli, of Serravalle, and a new portrait was painted in
honor of the event. When the marriage settlement was signed Lavinia
brought her husband a dowry of fourteen hundred ducats, a royal sum in
those days. The wedding was on the 19th of June, 1555.

Some years after her marriage Lavinia again sat to her father for her
portrait. Her beauty, as we have noted, was not of a lasting kind, and
in the passing years her fresh color faded, and she became far too stout
for grace. Yet the frank nature always made her attractive, and it is
pleasant to see in the kindly face the fulfilment of the happy promise
of her girlhood.

VIII

CHRIST OF THE TRIBUTE MONEY

During the three years of Christ's ministry, his words and actions were
closely watched by his enemies, who hoped to find some fault of which
they could accuse him. Not a flaw could be seen in that blameless life,
and it was only by some trick that they could get him into their power.

One plan that they devised was very cunning. Palestine was at that time
a province of the Roman empire, and the popular party among the Jews
chafed at having to pay tribute to the emperor Cæsar. On the other hand
the presence of the Roman governor in Jerusalem made it dangerous to
express any open rebellion. Jesus was the friend of the people, and many
of his followers believed that he would eventually lead them to throw
off the Roman yoke. As a matter of fact, however, he had taken no part
in political discussions.

His enemies now determined to make him commit himself to one party or
the other. If he declared himself for Rome, his popularity was lost; if
against Rome he was liable to arrest. The evangelists relate how
shrewdly their question was framed to force a compromising reply, and
how completely he silenced them with his twofold answer. This is the
story:--

"Then went the Pharisees, and took counsel how they might entangle him
in his talk. And they sent out unto him their disciples with the
Herodians, saying, Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the
way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest
not the person of men. Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it
lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not?

"But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye
hypocrites? Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a
penny. And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?
They say unto him, Cæsar's. Then saith he unto them, Render, therefore,
unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's; and unto God the things that
are God's. When they had heard these words, they marvelled and left him,
and went their way."[13]

That was indeed a wonderful scene, and it is made quite real to us in
our picture: Christ and the Pharisee stand face to face, engaged in
conversation. A wily old fellow has been chosen spokesman for his party.
His bronzed skin and hairy muscular arm show him to be of a common class
of laborers. The face is seamed with toil, and he has the hooked,
aquiline nose of his race. As he peers into the face of his supposed
dupe, his expression is full of low cunning and hypocrisy. He holds
between thumb and forefinger the Roman coin which Christ has called for,
and looks up as if wondering what that has to do with the question.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

CHRIST OF THE TRIBUTE MONEY

_Dresden Gallery_]

Christ turns upon him a searching glance which seems to read his motives
as an open page. There is no indignation in the expression, only
sorrowful rebuke. His answer is ready, and he points quietly to the coin
with the words which so astonish his listeners.

The character of Christ is so many-sided that any painter who tries to
represent him has the difficult task of uniting in a single face all
noble qualities of manhood. Let us notice what elements of character
Titian has made most prominent, and we shall see how much more nearly he
satisfies our ideal than other painters.

Refinement and intellectual power impress us first in this countenance:
the noble forehead is that of a thinker. The eyes show penetration and
insight: we feel how impossible it would be to deceive this man. It is a
gentle face, too, but without weakness. Here is one who would sympathize
with the sorrowing and have compassion on the erring, but who would not
forget to be just. Strength of character and firmness of purpose are
indicated in his expression. The highest quality in the face is its
moral earnestness. Its calm purity contrasts with the coarse, evil face
of the questioner as light shining in the darkness. There is, perhaps,
only one other head of Christ in art with which it can properly be
compared, and this is by Leonardo da Vinci, in the Last Supper at
Milan. The two painters have expressed, as no others have been able to,
a spiritual majesty worthy of the subject.

The early painters used to surround the head of Christ with a circle of
gold, which was called a nimbus, a halo, or a glory. The custom had been
given up by Titian's time, but we see in our picture the remnant of the
old symbol in the three tiny points of light which shine over the top
and sides of the Saviour's hair. They are a mystic emblem of the
Trinity.

The artistic qualities of the picture are above praise. There are few,
if any, of Titian's works executed with so much care and delicacy of
finish, but without sacrificing anything in the breadth. We recognize
the painter's characteristic touch in the disposition of the draperies,
in the delicacy of the hair, the modelling of the hands, and the pose of
Christ's head. The figures have that quality of vitality which we
observe in Titian's great portraits. The color of Christ's robe is red,
and his mantle a deep blue.

THE BELLA

Among Titian's wealthy patrons was a certain Duke of Urbino, Francesco
Maria della Rovere, who, as the general-in-chief of the Venetian forces,
came to Venice to live when our artist was at the height of his fame.
From this time till the Duke's death the painter was brought into
relations with this noble family. This was the period when the Bella was
painted, and the picture has, as we shall see, an intimate connection
with these patrons.

The Duke's wife was Eleanora Gonzaga, sister of the Duke of Mantua,
celebrated for her beauty and refinement. A contemporary (Baldassare
Castiglione) writing of the lady, says: "If ever there were united
wisdom, grace, beauty, genius, courtesy, gentleness, and refined
manners, it was in her person, where these combined qualities form a
chain adorning her every movement."

The Duke himself was deeply in love with his wife. A week after his
marriage he wrote that "he had never met a more comely, merry, or sweet
girl, who to a most amiable disposition added a surprisingly precocious
judgment, which gained for her general admiration." Eleanora, on her
part A showed an undeviating affection for her husband, and they lived
together happily.

From the date of her marriage, we can reckon that the Duchess must have
been well into her thirties when she came to Venice to live. From a
portrait Titian painted of her, when she was about forty, we see that
much of the fresh beauty of her girlhood had faded. She had, however,
good features, with large, fine eyes and arching brows. Her figure was
graceful and her neck beautiful: the head was particularly well set.

All these qualities kindled the artistic imagination of Titian. In the
matron of forty his inner eye caught a vision of the belle of twenty.
Thereupon, he wrought an artist's miracle: he painted pictures of
Eleanora as she had looked twenty years before. One of these, and
perhaps the most famous, is the Bella of our illustration.[14] The
identity of the original is hidden under this simple title, which is an
Italian word, meaning the Beauty. An ancient legend tells of a wonderful
fountain, by drinking of which a man, though old, might renew his youth
and be, like the gods, immortal. There were some who went in quest of
these waters, among them, as we remember, the Spanish knight, Ponce de
Leon, who, thinking to find them north of Cuba, discovered our Florida.
The Duchess of Urbino found such a fountain of youth in the art of
Titian. Comparing her actual portrait with the Bella, painted within a
few years, it seems as if the lady of the former had quaffed the magic
draught which had restored her to her youthful beauty.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

THE BELLA

_Pitti Gallery, Florence_]

The Bella is what is called a half length portrait, the figure standing,
tall, slender, and perfectly proportioned. The lady turns her face to
meet ours, and whether we move to the right or the left, the eyes of the
enchantress seem to follow us. We fall under their spell at the first
glance; there is a delightful witchery about them.

The small head is exquisitely modelled, and the hair is coiled about it
in close braids to preserve the round contours corresponding to the
faultless curves of cheek and chin. The hair is of golden auburn, waving
prettily about the face, and escaping here and there in little tendrils.
Over the forehead it forms the same perfect arch which is repeated in
the brows. The slender throat is long and round, like the stalk of a
flower; the neck and shoulders are white and firm, and shaped in
beautiful curves.

The rich costume interests us as indicating the fashions in the best
Venetian society of the early 16th century. Comparing it with that of
the Empress Isabella in our other picture,[15] we notice that at the same
period the Venetian styles differed considerably from the Spanish, to
the advantage of the former. Instead of the stiff Spanish corset which
destroyed the natural grace of the figure, the Bella wears a comfortably
fitting bodice, from which the skirt falls in full straight folds. The
dress is of brownish purple velvet, combined with peacock blue brocade.
The sleeves are ornamented with small knots pulled through slashes. A
long chain falls across the neck, and jewelled ear-rings hang in the
ears.[16]

It is pleasant to analyze the details of the figure and costume, but
after all the charm of the picture is in the total impression it
conveys. Applied to this lovely vision of womanhood the words of
Castiglione seem no flattery. In her are united "grace, beauty,
courtesy, gentleness, and refined manners." The essence of aristocracy
is expressed in her bearing: the pose of the head is that of a princess.
There is no trace of haughtiness in her manner, and no approach to
familiarity: she has the perfect equipoise of good breeding.

The picture gives us that sense of a real presence which it was the
crowning glory of Titian's art to achieve. The canvas is much injured,
but the Bella is still immortally young and beautiful.

MEDEA AND VENUS

(_Formerly called Sacred and Profane Love_)

A charming story is told in Ovid's "Metamorphoses" of Jason's adventures
in search of the golden fleece, and of his love for Medea.[17] Jason was
a Greek prince, young, handsome, brave, and withal of noble heart. He
had journeyed over seas in his good ship Argo, and had at last come to
Colchis to win the coveted treasure.

The King Æëtes had no mind to give up the fleece without a struggle, and
he set the young hero a hard task. He was ordered to tame two bulls
which had feet of brass and breath of flame. When he had yoked these, he
was to plough a field and sow it with serpent's teeth which would yield
a crop of armed men to attack him. While Jason turned over in his mind
how he should perform these feats, he chanced to meet the king's
beautiful daughter Medea. At once the two fell in love with each other,
and Jason's fortunes took a new turn. Medea possessed certain secrets of
enchantment which might be of practical service to her lover in his
adventure. She had a magic salve which protected the body from fire and
steel. She also knew the charm--and it was merely the throwing of a
stone--which would turn the "earth-born crop of foes" from attacking an
enemy to attack one another. Finally she had drugs which would put to
sleep the dragon guarding the fleece.

To impart these secrets to Jason might seem an easy matter, but Medea
did not find it so. She was a loyal daughter, and Jason had come to take
her father's prized possession. She would be a traitor to aid a stranger
against her own people. The poet tells how in her trouble the princess
sought a quiet spot where she might take counsel with herself.

"In vain," she cried,
"Medea! dost thou strive! Some deity
Resists thee! Ah, this passion sure, or one
Resembling this, must be what men call love!
Why should my sire's conditions seem too hard?
And yet too hard they are! Why should I shake
And tremble for the fate of one whom scarce
These eyes have looked on twice? Whence comes this fear
I cannot quell? Unhappy! from thy breast
Dash out these new-lit fires!--Ah! wiser far
If so I could!--But some new power constrains,
And reason this way points, and that way, love."

The struggle goes on for some time, and the maiden's heart is torn with
conflicting impulses. Summoning up "all images of right and faith and
shame and natural duty," she fancies that her love is conquered. A
moment later Jason crosses her path and the day is lost. Together they
pledge their vows at the shrine of Hecate, and in due time they sail
away in the Argo with the golden fleece.

[Illustration: From a carbon print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son, Sc.

MEDEA AND VENUS

_Borghese Gallery, Rome_]

Our picture illustrates the scene of Medea's temptation at the fountain.
The tempter is love, in the form of Venus, the Greek goddess represented
in the old mythology as the inspirer of the tender passion. She is
accompanied by the little love-god Cupid, the mischievous fellow whose
bow and arrow work so much havoc in human hearts. The perplexed princess
sits beside the fountain, holding her head in the attitude of one
listening. Venus leans towards her from the other side and softly pleads
the lover's cause. Cupid paddles in the water as if quite unconcerned in
the affair, but none can tell what mischief he is plotting.

We notice a distinct resemblance between the faces of the two maidens,
and perhaps this is the painter's way of telling us that Venus is only
Medea's other self: the voice of the tempter speaks from her own heart.
The expression is quite different on the two faces, tender and
persuasive in Venus, dreamy and preoccupied in Medea. If we turn again
to Ovid for the interpretation of the picture, we may fancy that Venus
is describing the proud days when, as Jason's bride, Medea would journey
with him through the cities of Greece. "My head will touch the very
stars with rapture," thought the princess.

The dress of Medea is rich and elegant, but quite simply made; the heavy
folds of the skirt describe long, beautiful lines. In one gloved hand
she holds a bunch of herbs, and the other rests upon a casket.

The figure of Venus is conceived according to classic tradition,
undraped, as the goddess emerged from the sea-foam at her birth. In the
Greek religion the human body was honored as a fit incarnation for the
deities. Sculptors delighted in the long flowing lines and beautiful
curves which could be developed in different poses. Titian's picture
translates the spirit of Greek sculpture, so to speak, into the art of
painting. The figure of Venus may well be compared with the marble Venus
of Milo, in the pure beauty of the face, the exquisite modelling of the
figure, and the sweeping lines of grace described in the attitude.[18]
The painter contrasts the delicate tint of the flesh with the rich
crimson of the mantle which falls from the shoulder.

The landscape is a charming part of the picture, stretching on either
side in sunny vistas, pleasantly diversified with woods and waters,
hills and pasture lands, church and castle.[19] Sunset lights the sky,
and lends its color to the glowing harmonies of the composition.

THE MAN WITH THE GLOVE

The Man with the Glove is so called for lack of a more definite name.
Nothing is told by Titian's biographers about the original of the
portrait, and the mystery gives a certain romantic interest to the
picture. Not being limited by any actual facts we can invent a story of
our own about the person, or as many stories as we like, each according
to his fancy.

The sitter certainly makes a good figure for the hero of a romance. He
is young and handsome, well dressed, with an unmistakable air of
breeding, and singularly expressive eyes. Such eyes usually belong to a
shy, sensitive nature, and have a haunting quality like those of some
woodland creature.

The title of The Man with the Glove is appropriate in emphasizing an
important feature of the costume. In the days of this portrait, gloves
were worn only by persons of wealth and distinction, and were a
distinguishing mark of elegance. Though somewhat clumsily made,
according to our modern notions, they were large enough to preserve the
characteristic shape of the hand, and give easy play to the fingers.
They formed, too, a poetic element in the social life of the age of
chivalry. It was by throwing down his glove (or gauntlet) that one
knight challenged another; while a glove was also sometimes a love-token
between a knight and his lady.

The glove has its artistic purpose in the picture, casting the left hand
into shadow, to contrast with the ungloved right hand. The texture of
the leather is skilfully rendered, and harmonizes pleasantly with the
serious color scheme of the composition.

Besides the gloves, the daintily ruffled shirt, the seal ring, and the
long neck chain, show the sitter to be a young man of fashion. Not that
he is in the least a fop, but he belongs to that station in life where
fine raiment is a matter of course, and he wears it as one to the manner
born. His hands are delicately modelled, but they are not the plump
hands of an idler. They are rather flexible and sensitive, with long
fingers like the hands of an artist.

The glossy hair falls over the ears, and is brushed forward and cut in a
straight line across the forehead. The style suits well the open
frankness of the countenance. We must note Titian's rendering of both
hair and hands as points of excellence in the portrait. There is a great
deal of individuality in the texture of a person's hair and the shape of
his hands, but many artists have apparently overlooked this fact. Van
Dyck, for instance, used a model who furnished the hands for his
portraits, irrespective of the sitter. Titian, in his best work, counted
nothing too trivial for faithful artistic treatment.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son, Sc.

THE MAN WITH THE GLOVE

_The Louvre, Paris_]

If we were to try to explain why The Man with the Glove is a great work
of art we should find the first reason, perhaps, in the fact that the
man seems actually alive. The portrait has what the critics call
vitality, in a remarkable degree. Again, the painter has revealed in the
face the inner life of the man himself; the portrait is a revelation of
his personality.

It has been said that every man wears an habitual mask in the presence
of his fellows. It is only when he is taken unaware that the mask drops,
and the man's real self looks out of his face. The portrait painter's
art must catch the sitter's expression in such a moment of
unconsciousness. The great artist must be a seer as well as a painter,
to penetrate the secrets of human character.

The young man of our picture is one of those reticent natures capable of
intense feeling. In this moment of unconsciousness his very soul seems
to look forth from his eyes. It is the soul of a poet, though he may not
possess the gift of song. He has the poet's imagination as a dreamer of
noble dreams.

The time seems to have come when he is just awakening to the
possibilities of life. He faces the future seriously, but with no
shrinking. One recalls the words of Gareth, in Tennyson's Idyll:

"Man am I grown, a man's work must I do.
* * * * *
Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the king--
Else wherefore born?"[20]

The lofty ideals of the knights of King Arthur's
Round Table are such as we feel sure this gentle spirit
would make his own:--

"To reverence the king as if he were
Their conscience, and their conscience as their king,
To break the heathen and uphold the Christ,
To ride abroad redressing human wrongs,
To speak no slander, no nor listen to it,
To lead sweet lives in purest chastity,
To love one maiden only, cleave to her,
And worship her by years of noble deeds
Until they won her."[21]

It may be of these "noble deeds" of chivalry that our young man is
dreaming, or it may be of that "one maiden" for whose sake they are to
be done. Certainly these candid eyes see visions which we should be glad
to see, and show us the depths of a knightly soul.

XII

THE ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN

(_Detail_)

The Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus, has for over nineteen centuries
represented to Christendom all the ideal qualities of womanhood. In her
character, as revealed in St. Luke's gospel, we read of her noble,
trustful humility in accepting the message of the Annunciation; of her
decision and prudence shown in her visit to Elizabeth; of her
intellectual power as manifested in the song of the Magnificat; of the
contemplative nature with which she watched the growth of Jesus; of her
maternal devotion throughout her son's ministry,--and of her sublime
fortitude and faith at his crucifixion.[22] Such was the woman so highly
favored of God, she whom the angel called "blessed among women."

Art has pictured for us many imaginary scenes from the life of Mary. The
most familiar and best loved subject is that of her motherhood, where
she is seen with her babe in her arms. There are other subjects, less
common, showing her as a glorified figure in mid-air as in a vision. One
such is that called the Immaculate Conception, which the Spanish
painter Murillo so frequently repeated.[23] Another is the Assumption,
representing her at her death as borne by angels to heaven.

The "Golden Legend" relates how "the right fair among the daughters of
Jerusalem ... full of charity and dilection" was "joyously received"
into glory. "The angels were glad, the archangels enjoyed, the thrones
sang, the dominations made melody, the principalities harmonized, the
potestates harped, cherubim and seraphim sang laudings and praisings."
Also, "the angels were with the apostles singing, and replenished all
the land with marvelous sweetness."[24]

The Assumption of the Virgin is the subject of a noble painting by
Titian, one of the most celebrated pictures in the world. A group of
apostles stand on the earth gazing after the receding figure of the
Virgin as she soars into the air on a wreath of cloud-borne angels. From
the upper air the Heavenly Father floats downward with his angels to
receive her. As the canvas is very large, over twenty-two feet in
height, a small reproduction of the entire picture is unsatisfactory,
and our illustration gives us the heart of the composition for careful
study.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

THE ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN (DETAIL)

_Venice Academy_]

The Virgin rises buoyantly through the air, and the figure is so full
of life and motion that it seems as if it would presently soar beyond
our sight. The heavy folds of the skirt swirl about the body in the
swiftness of the ascent. The rushing air fills the mantle like the sail
of a ship. Yet the source of motion is not within the figure itself, for
we see the feet resting firmly on the cloud. It is as if she were borne
aloft in a celestial chariot composed of an angelic host.

The face is lifted with a look of rapture; the arms are extended in a
gesture of exultation. The pose of the head displays the beautiful
throat, strong and full like that of a singer. The features are cast in
a large, majestic mould. The hands, turned palm outward, are large and
flexible, but with delicate, tapering fingers.

We have already seen in other pictures what was Titian's conception of
the Virgin in her girlhood and motherhood. We find little of the
ethereal and spiritual in his ideal, and nothing that would in any way
suggest that true piety is morbid or sentimental. Other painters have
erred in this direction, but not Titian. To him the Virgin was no angel
in disguise, but a strong, happy, healthy woman, rejoicing in life. But
though a woman, she was in the poet's phrase "a woman above all women
glorified." She possessed in perfection all the good gifts of human
nature. Titian's ideal coincided with the old Greek formula, "A sound
mind in a sound body." The Virgin of the Assumption is in fact not
unlike a Greek goddess in her magnificently developed physique and
glorious beauty.

Our illustration includes a few of the baby angels from the wreath
supporting the Madonna. They are packed so closely together in the
picture that their little limbs interlace like interwoven stems in a
garland of flowers. Yet the figures are cunningly arranged to bring into
prominence a series of radiating lines which flow towards a centre in
the Madonna's face. We see in the corner of our print a little arm
pointing to the Virgin, and above it is a cherub's wing drawn in the
same oblique line.

Frolicsome as is this whole company of angels, they are of an almost
unearthly beauty. A poetic critic has told of standing before the
picture contemplating these lovely spirits one after another, until, as
she expresses it, "A thrill came over me like that which I felt when
Mendelssohn played the organ and I became music while I listened." She
sums up the effect of the picture as "mind and music and love, kneaded,
as it were, into form and color."[25]

When we analyze the drawing of the Madonna's figure we see that it is
drawn in an outline of long, beautiful curves. The principle of
repetition is skilfully worked into the composition. The outer sleeve
falls away from the right arm in an oval which exactly duplicates that
made by the lower portion of the mantle sweeping out at one side. By
tracing the main lines of the drapery one will find them running in
parallels.

XIII

FLORA

Besides the portraits intended as actual likenesses of the sitters,
Titian was fond of painting what may be called ideal portraits, or fancy
pictures. While real persons furnished the original models for these,
the painter let his imagination have free play in modifying and
perfecting form and feature. We have seen an illustration of this
process in the picture called the Bella, an idealized portrait of
Eleanora Gonzaga. The Flora is another example.

We do not know the name of the original, but we may be sure that it
represents an actual person. There is a tradition that she was the
daughter of one of Titian's fellow-painters, Palma, with whom he was in
love. As a matter of fact, Palma had no daughter, and the young woman
was doubtless only a favorite Venetian model whom both painters
employed. Apparently it was she who posed for both figures in the
picture of Medea and Venus which we have studied.[26]

Flora's hair is of that auburn tint which the Venetians loved, and
which, it is believed, was artificially produced. It is looped into
soft, waving puffs over the ears, and gathered back by a silken cord,
below which it falls like a delicate veil thinly spread over the
shoulders. The skin is exquisitely white and soft, and the thin garment
has been allowed to slip from one shoulder so that we may see the full,
beautiful neck.

We notice with what art the painter has arranged the draperies. From the
right shoulder the garment falls in delicate, radiating folds across the
figure. Over the garment is thrown a stiff, rose-colored brocade mantle,
contrasting pleasantly with the former both in color and texture. A
glimpse of this mantle is seen at the right side and above the left
shoulder and arm, over which the hand gathers it up to prevent it from
slipping. This action of the left hand introduces a new set of lines
into the picture, breaking the folds of the drapery into eddying circles
which offset the more sweeping lines of the composition.[27]

The drawing here is well worth studying, and we may give it more
attention since we must lose the lovely color of the painting in the
reproduction. The main lines flow in diagonals in two opposite
directions. There is the long line of the right arm and shoulder drawn
in a fine, strong curve across the canvas. Parallel with it is the edge
of the brocade mantle as it is held in the left hand. The counter lines
are the curve of the neck and left shoulder, with which the upper edge
of the undergarment runs parallel. The wide spaces between these
enclosing lines are broken by sprays of radiating lines, one formed by
the folds of the undergarment, and the other smaller one by the locks of
hair on the left shoulder.

[Illustration: Picture from Carbon Print by Braun, Clément & Co.
John Andrew & Son. Sc.

FLORA

_Uffizi Gallery, Florence_]

The graceful pose of the head, inclined to one side, suggests the soft
languor of a southern temperament. It was often adopted by Titian, and
we see another instance in the attitude of the Venus. We fancy that the
painters liked particularly the long curve thus obtained along the neck
and shoulder. The angle made on the other side between head and shoulder
is filled in with the falling hair.

The title of Flora is given to the picture after the fashion of Titian's
time for drawing subjects from mythology. The revival of classic
learning had opened to Italian art a delightful new field of
illustration. We see how Titian took advantage of it in such pictures as
Medea and Venus. In England the love of the classics was seen in the
poetry which took much the same place there that painting held in Italy.
Flora was the ancient goddess of flowers and is made much of in
Elizabethan verse.[28] Some pretty lines by Richard Carlton describe

"When Flora fair the pleasant tidings bringeth
Of summer sweet with herbs and flowers adorned."

In our picture the goddess holds a handful of flowers, roses, jessamine
and violets, as a sign of her identity. We confess that her type of
beauty hardly corresponds to our ideal of Flora. She is a gentle,
amiable creature, but not ethereal and poetic enough for the goddess
of flowers. Were we to choose a character for her from mythology it
would be Juno, the matronly "ox-eyed" goddess, who presided over
marriage and whose emblem was the productive pomegranate.

As we compare Flora with the other fair women of our collection, we see
that her beauty is of a less elegant and aristocratic type than that of
the Bella, and less delicate and refined than that of the Empress
Isabella. Her face is perhaps too broad to satisfy a connoisseur of
beauty, and she is quite plainly of plebeian caste. Like Lavinia her
charm is in the healthy vitality which was the special characteristic of
the Venetian beauties of the time. The figure glows with warm pulsing
life.

XIV

THE PESARO MADONNA

High on a great marble pedestal, between the stately pillars of a
temple, sits the mother Mary with her child Jesus, receiving
worshippers. Beyond the pillars is seen the blue sky veiled with fleecy
clouds. A tiny cloud has floated within the enclosure, bearing two
winged cherubs, who hold a cross between them, hovering over the group
below.

The company of worshippers kneel on the tessellated pavement: we see
from their dress that they are wealthy Venetians of the sixteenth
century. It is the family group of a certain Jacopo Pesaro, who was at
that time bishop of Paphos. He is known by the familiar nickname of
"Baffo," and played an important part in Venetian history.

When the Venetians went forth in the New Crusade to attack the Turks,
Pesaro or "Baffo" was the commander of the galleys sent by the Borgia
pope Alexander VI. The expedition being successful, the bishop wished to
show his gratitude for the divine favor. Accordingly, in the course of
time, he ordered this picture as a thank-offering commemorative of his
victory. He comes with his kinsman Benedetto and other members of his
family to consecrate the standards taken from the enemy.

The bishop himself has the most prominent place among the worshippers at
the foot of the throne steps, while Benedetto, with a group behind him,
kneels opposite. The victorious commander is accompanied by St. George,
who carries the banner inscribed with the papal arms and the Pesaro
escutcheon. He leads forward two Turkish captives to whom he turns to
speak. St. George was a warrior saint, and being besides the patron of
Venice his appearance in this capacity is very appropriate here.

There are other saints to lend their august presence to the ceremony. As
the picture was to be given to a church dedicated to the Franciscan
friars or "Frari," two of the most celebrated members of this order are
represented. They are St. Francis, the founder, and St. Anthony, of
Padua, the great preacher, and they stand in the habits of their order
beside the throne. Midway on the steps St. Peter is seated reading a
book from which he turns to look down upon Jacopo. The key, which is the
symbol of his authority in the church, stands on the step below. The
saints, we see, form a connecting link between the exalted height of the
Madonna and Child and the worshippers. St. Peter introduces the bishop,
and St. Francis seems to ask favor for the group with Benedetto.

The scene is full of pomp and grandeur. The superb architecture of the
temple, the rich draperies of the sacred group, the splendid dresses of
the worshippers, the red and gold banner, all contribute to the
impression of magnificence which the picture conveys. The colossal scale
of the composition gives us an exhilarating sense of spaciousness. The
color harmony is described as glorious.

[Illustration: D. Anderson, photo. John Andrew & Son. Sc.

THE PESARO MADONNA

_Church of the Frari, Venice_]

Though the bishop of Paphos comes to render thanks, his attitude is far
from humble. There are no bowed heads in the kneeling company. These
proud Pesari all hold themselves erect in conscious self-importance. It
is as if they were taking part in some pageant. Only the face of the
youth in the corner relaxes from dignified impassivity and looks
wistfully out at us.

The Madonna leans graciously from her high throne and looks into the
face of the bishop. She, too, has the proud aspect and demeanor which
these haughty Venetians would demand of one whom they were to honor. Her
splendid vitality is what impresses us most forcibly. The child is a
merry little fellow who does not concern himself at all with the
ceremony. He has caught up his mother's veil in the left hand, drawing
it over his head as if in a game of hide and seek with St. Francis. The
little foot is kicked out playfully as he looks down into the good
saint's face.

Let us consider a moment the skill with which Titian has united the
various parts of his picture. The canvas was of an awkward shape, being
of so great height. To fill the space proportionately, the Virgin's
throne is placed at a height which divides the picture. The little
cloud-borne cherubs break the otherwise undue length of the temple
pillars. The composition of the group is outlined in a rather
odd-shaped triangle. All its main lines flow diagonally toward a focus
in the face of the Virgin, who is of course the dominant figure in the
company.

Notice the continuous line extending from the top to the bottom of the
group. The folds of the Madonna's drapery are ingeniously carried on in
the rich velvet throne hanging; and St. Peter's yellow mantle falls well
below, where the bishop's robe takes up the lines and carries them to
the pavement. There is a veritable cascade of draperies flowing
diagonally through the centre of the picture. The staff of the banner
describes a line cutting this main diagonal at exactly the same angle,
and thus avoiding any one-sided effect in the picture. In the right of
the composition the outline of the Christchild's figure, the arm of St.
Francis, and the stiff robe of Benedetto make a series of lines which
enclose the triangle on that side.

The critic Ruskin has enunciated a set of laws of composition nearly all
of which find illustration in this painting.[29] _Principality_ is well
exemplified in the prominence of the Virgin's position and the flow of
the lines toward her. _Repetition_, _Contrast_, and _Continuity_, are
seen in the drawing of the compositional lines, as has been indicated.
Finally, the picture is perfect in _Unity_, which is the result of
masterly composition, its many diverse parts being bound closely
together to form a harmonious whole.

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST

St. John the Baptist was the cousin of Jesus, and was the elder of the
two by about six months. Before his birth the angel Gabriel appeared to
his father, Zacharias, and predicted for the coming child a great
mission as a prophet. His special work was to prepare the way for the
advent of the Messiah.

Zacharias was a priest and a good man, and both he and his wife
Elizabeth were deeply impressed with the angel's message. Not long
after, their cousin Mary came from Nazareth to bring them news of the
wonderful babe Jesus promised her by the same angel. He was to be the
Messiah whom John was to proclaim. The two women talked earnestly
together of the future of their children, and no doubt planned to do all
in their power to further the angel's prediction. The time came when all
these strange prophecies were fulfilled. As John grew to manhood he
showed himself quite different from other men. He took up his abode in
the wilderness, where he lived almost as a hermit. His raiment was of
camel's hair fastened about him with a leathern girdle; his food was
locusts and wild honey. At length "the word of God came unto him," and
he began to go about the country preaching. His speech was as simple and
rugged as his manner of life. He boldly denounced the Pharisees and
Sadducees as "a generation of vipers," and warned sinners "to flee from
the wrath to come." The burden of all his sermons was, "Repent, for the
kingdom of heaven is at hand."

The fame of his preaching reached Jerusalem, and the Jews sent priests
and Levites to ask him, "Who art thou?" His reply was in the mystic
language of the old Hebrew prophet Isaiah, "I am the Voice of one crying
in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord."

It was a part of John's work to baptize his converts in the river
Jordan. He explained, however, that this baptism by water was only a
symbol of the spiritual baptism which they were to receive at the hands
of the coming: Messiah. "One mightier than I cometh," he said, "the
latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose: he shall baptize you
with the Holy Ghost and with fire."[30]

At last Jesus himself sought to be baptized by John. The Baptist
protested his unworthiness, but Jesus insisted, and the ceremony was
performed. And "it came to pass that ... the heaven was opened, and the
Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon him, and a voice
came from heaven, which said, Thou art my beloved son; in thee I am well
pleased."[31] This was the promised sign by which John knew Jesus as the
Messiah, and he straightway proclaimed him to his disciples.

[Illustration: D. Anderson, photo. John Andrew & Son. Sc.

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST

_Venice Academy_]

His life work was now consummated, but he was not permitted to see the
fruits of his labors. For his open denunciation of King Herod he was
cast into prison, and was soon after beheaded.

In our picture St. John stands in a mountain glen preaching. As his
glance is directed out of the picture it is as if his audience were in
front, and we among their number. His pointing finger seems to single
out some one to whom he directs attention, and we know well who it is.
This must be that day when seeing Jesus approach the prophet exclaimed,
"Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world. This is
he of whom I said, After me cometh a man which is preferred before me;
for he was before me."[32] The lamb which lies on the ground beside him
is the outward symbol of his words. The slender reed cross he carries is
an emblem of his mission as the prophet of the crucified one.

From head to feet the Baptist impresses us with his muscular power.
There is no hint of fastings and vigils in this strong athletic figure.
Here, as elsewhere. Titian will have nothing of that piety which is
associated with a delicate and puny physique. He is the art apostle of
that "muscular Christianity" of which Charles Kingsley used to preach.
The Baptist's skin is bronzed and weather-beaten from his active
out-of-door life. Yet the face shows the stern and sombre character of
the prophet. There are traces of suffering in the expression, as of one
who mourns profoundly the evil in the world. Something of the fanatic
gleams in the eyes, and the effect is heightened by the wild masses of
unkempt hair which frame the countenance.

Nature too seems to be in a somewhat wild and sombre mood in this spot.
A dark bank rises abruptly at the side, and St. John stands in its
shadow, just under a tuft of coarse grass and bushes jutting from its
upper edge. The sky is overcast with clouds. A narrow stream falls over
a rocky bed, and in the distance slender trees lift their feathery
branches in the air. In Titian's time landscape painting had not
developed into an independent art, but was an important part of figure
compositions. Our painter always took great pains with his landscapes,
making them harmonize, as does this, with the character of the figures.

The picture reminds us of the St. Christopher which we have examined,
being, like it, a study direct from the life of some athletic model. Yet
here we see to better advantage Titian's work in modelling the nude
figure. We can understand that one reason why he could make a draped
figure so lifelike was because he studied the anatomy of the human body
in undraped models. The figure here stands out almost as if it were done
in sculpture.

XVI

PORTRAIT OF TITIAN

Probably no other painter in the world's history was ever granted so
long a life in which to develop his art as was Titian. He was a mere boy
when he began to paint, and he was still busy with his brush when
stricken with plague at the age of ninety-nine.

The years between were full of activity, and every decade was marked by
some specially notable work as by a golden milestone. The Assumption of
the Virgin was painted at the age of forty, the Pesaro Madonna at fifty,
the Presentation of the Virgin in his early sixties, the portrait of
Philip II. at about seventy, and St. John the Baptist at eighty. How
interesting it would be if we could have a portrait of the man himself
painted at each decade!

Titian, however, seems to have been quite lacking in personal vanity.
Though a handsome and distinguished-looking man, a fine subject for a
portrait, he seldom painted his own likeness. We value the more the fine
portrait of our frontispiece painted at the age of eighty-five. The
years have dealt so gently with him that we may still call him a
handsome man. Yet the face has the shrunken look of old age, there are
deep hollows about the eyes, and the features are sharpened under the
withered skin. There is an expression which seems almost like awe in
the eyes. The painter gazes absently into space as if piercing beyond
the veil which separates this world from the next. The mood does not
seem to be one of reminiscence, but rather of grave anticipation.

As we study the face we are interested to read in it what we know of the
man's character and history. Titian was, as we have seen, a man who
enjoyed very much the good things of life, and passed most of his days
in luxurious surroundings. He was thoroughly a man of the world, at ease
in the society of princes and noblemen, and a princely host in his own
house. Our portrait shows that his courtly bearing did not fail him in
his old age: we can fancy the ceremonious courtesy of his manner. The
figure is extended well below the waist, perhaps that we may see how
erect the old man is.

Titian, too, had not a little taste for literature and the society of
the learned. His fine high brow and keen eyes are sufficient evidence
that he was a man of intellect. That he was a fond father we have no
doubt, and we like to trace the lines of kindliness in the fine old
face.

Age cannot quench the old man's ardor for his art. The brush is still
his familiar companion, and will go with him to the end. He holds it
here in his right hand, in the attitude of a painter pausing to get the
effect of his work. It may be from this that he would have us think that
his glance is directed toward his canvas. In that case, the serious
expression would indicate that the subject is a solemn one, perhaps the
Ecce Homo, or the Pieta, which he painted in his later years.

We see that his hand had not lost its cunning in summoning before us the
real presence of a sitter, and that he could paint his own likeness as
readily as that of another. The portrait shows us the best elements in a
man of a many-sided nature. This is Titian the master, whom the world
honors as one of the greatest of his kind.

PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OF PROPER NAMES AND FOREIGN WORDS

The Diacritical Marks given are those found in the latest edition of
Webster's International Dictionary.

EXPLANATION OF DIACRITICAL MARKS.

A Dash ([=_]) above the vowel denotes the long sound, as in f[=a]te,
[=e]ve, t[=i]me, n[=o]te, [=u]se.

A Dash and a Dot ([.=_]) above the vowel denote the same sound, less
prolonged.

A Curve ([)_]) above the vowel denotes the short sound, as in
[)a]dd, [)e]nd, [)i]ll, [)o]dd, [)u]p.

A Dot ([._]) above the vowel a denotes the obscure sound of a in
p[.a]st, [.a]bate, Americ[.a].

A Double Dot ([:_]) above the vowel a denotes the broad sound of a
in fäther, älma.

A Double Dot ([_:]) below the vowel a denotes the sound of a in
b[a:]ll.

A Wave ([~_]) above the vowel e denotes the sound of e in h[~e]r.

A Circumflex Accent ([^_]) above the vowel o denotes the sound of o
in bôrn.

A dot ([_.]) below the vowel u denotes the sound of u in the French
language.

[N] indicates that the preceding vowel has the French nasal tone.

th denotes the sound of th in the, this,

ç sounds like s.

[/c] sounds like k.

[g=] sounds like z.

[=g] is hard as in get.

[.g] is soft as in gem.

Æëtes ([.=e][=e]'t[.=e]z).
Andalusia ([)a]n-d[.a]-l[=o][=o]'z[)i]-[.a]
_or_ än-dä-l[=o][=o]-th[=e]'ä).
Anthony ([)a]n't[)o]-n[)i]).
Argo (är'[=g][=o]).
Armada (är-mä'dä _or_ är-m[=a]'d[.a]).
Augsburg (owgs'b[=o][=o]rG).

Baffo (bäf'f[.=o]).
Bäldässä'r[)e].
B[)e]l'lä.
Belvedere (b[)e]l-v[)e]-d[=a]'r[)e] _or_ -d[=e]r').
Benedetto (b[=a]-n[=a]-d[)e]t't[=o]).
B[)e]th'l[=e]h[=e]m.
Biri (b[=e]'r[=e]).
Borgia (bôr'jä).
Brussels (br[)u]s'[)e]lz).

Cæsar (s[=e]'z[.a]r).
Calvary (k[)a]l'v[.a]-r[)i]).
Canaan (k[=a]'n[.a]n _or_ k[=a]'n[.=a]-[.a]n).
Carlton (kärl't[)u]n).
Casa Grande (kä'sä grän'd[.=a]).
Castiglione (käs-t[=e]l-y[=o]'n[.=a]).
Caxton (k[)a]ks't[)u]n).
Ceneda (ch[=a]-n[=a]'dä).
Christopher (kr[)i]s't[.=o]-f[)e]r).
Cleodolinda (kl[.=a]-[.=o]-d[.=o]-l[)i]n'dä).
Cl[)o]s's[)o]n.
Colchis (k[)o]l'k[)i]s).
Cornelio (k[.=o]r-n[=a]'l[.=e]-[.=o]).
Cristoforo (kr[.=e]s-t[=o]'f[.=o]-r[=o]).
C[=u]'p[)i]d.

Diocletian (d[.=i]-[.=o]-kl[=e]'sh[)i]-[.a]n).

Ecce Homo ([)e]k'k[)e], _or_ [)e]k's[=e], h[=o]'m[=o]).
Eleanora ([.=a]-l[.=a]-[.=o]-n[=o]'rä).
Elizabeth ([.=e]-l[)i]z'[.a]-b[)e]th).
Emmanuel ([)e]m-m[)a]n' [.=u]-[)e]l).

F[=e]r'd[)i]n[)a]nd.
Fl[)e]m'[)i]ng.
Flôr[)e]nce.
Francesco (frän-ch[)e]s'k[=o]).
Franciscan (fr[)a]n-s[)i]s'k[)a]n).
Frari (frä'r[=e]).

G[=a]br[)i][)e]l.
G[=a]'r[)e]th.
Giorgione (jôr-j[=o]'n[.=a]).
G[)o]nzä'gä.
Gr[)a]nä'd[.a].
guimpe ([=g][)a][N]p).
Guinevere (gw[)i]n'[)e]-v[=e]r).

Hebrew (h[=e]'br[=o][=o]).
Hecate (h[)e]k'[.=a]-t[.=e]).
Herod (h[)e]r'[)u]d).
Herodians (h[)e]r-[=o]'d[)i]-[.a]nz).

Isabella ([)i]z-[.a]-b[)e]l'[.a]).
Isaiah (i-z[=a]'y[.a]).
Israel ([)i]z'r[.=a]-[)e]l).

Jacopo (yä'k[=o]-p[=o]).
Jameson (j[=a]'m[)e]-s[)u]n).
Jason (j[=a]'s[)u]n).
Jerome (j[.=e]-r[=o]m' or j[)e]r'[)u]m).
J[)e]r[=u]s[.a]l[)e]m.
Joachim (j[=o]'ä-k[)i]m).
Jôrd[.a]n.
Jud[=e]'[.a].
J[=u]'n[=o].

Kingsley (k[)i]ngz'l[)i]).

Läv[)i]n'[)i][.a].
Legenda Aurea (l[)e][=g]-[)e]n'dä ow'r[)e]-ä
_or_ l[=e]-j[)e]n'd[.a] [a:]'r[.=e]-[.a]).
Leon, Ponce de (p[=o]n'th[=a] d[=a] l[=a]-[=o]n').
Leonardo (l[=a]-[=o]-när'd[=o]).
Levites (l[=e]'v[=i]tz).
L[)o]t't[=o].
Lynette (L[)i]-n[)e]t').

M[.a]d[)o]n'n[.a].
M[)a]gn[)i]'f[)i]c[)a]t.
mandola (män-d[=o]'lä).
M[)a]n't[.=u][.a].
Maximilian (m[)a]k-s[)i]-m[=i]l'[=i]-[.a]n).
M[=e]d[=e]'[.a].
M[)e]n'd[)e]lss[=o]hn.
M[)e]ss[=i]'[.a]h.
M[)e]t[.a]môrph[=o]s[=e][s=].
Milan (m[)i]l'[.a]n _or_ m[)i]-l[)a]n').
M[=i]'l[=o].
Murano (m[=o][=o]-rä'n[=o]).
Murillo (m[=o][=o]-r[=e]l'y[=o]).

Naz'areth.
Netherlands (n[)e]th'[~e]r-l[.a]ndz).

Offero ([)o]f'f[.=e]-r[=o]).
Ovid ([)o]v'[)i]d).

P[)a]d'[.=u][.a].
P[)a]l[)e]st[=i]ne.
Pallavicino, Argentina
(är-[.g][)e]n-t[=e]'nä päl-lä-v[=e]-ch[=e]'n[=o]).
Päl'mä.
P[=a]'ph[)o]s.
Pär'mä.
Pesari (p[=a]-sä'r[=e]).
Pesaro, Jacopo (yä'k[=o]-p[=o] p[=a]-sä'r[=o]).
Pharisee (f[)a]r'[)i]-s[=e]).
Pieta (p[.=e]-[=a]'tä).
Portugal (p[=o]r't[.=u]-g[.a]l).
Portuguese (p[=o]r't[.=u]-g[=e]z).
Priscianese (pr[)i]s-ch[=e]-ä-n[=a]'s[.=a]).

Reggio (r[)e]d'j[=o]).
Rovere, Francesco Maria della (frän-ch[)e]s'k[=o]
mä-r[=e]'ä d[)e]l'lä r[=o]-v[=a]'r[=a]).
R[)u]s'k[)i]n.

Sadducees (s[)a]d'[.=u]-s[=e]z).
Salome (s[)a]-l[=o]'m[.=e]).
Sarcinelli, Cornelio
(k[=o]r-n[=a]'l[.=e]-[=o] sär-ch[.=e]-n[)e]l'l[.=e]).
Serravalle (s[)e]r-rä-väl'l[.=a]).
Seville (s[.=e]-v[)i]l').

Titian (t[)i]sh'[.a]n).

Uffizi ([=o][=o]f-f[=e]t's[.=e]).
Urbino ([=o][=o]r-b[=e]'n[.=o]).

Van Dyck (v[)a]n d[=i]k').

Vasari (vä-sä'r[=e]).
Velasquez (v[=a]-läs'k[=a]th).
Venetian (v[.=e]-n[=e]'sh[.a]n).
Venice (v[)e]n'[)i]s).
V[=e]'n[)u]s.
Veronese (v[=a]-r[=o]-n[=a]'z[.=a]).
V[)e]s[=a]'l[)i][)u]s.
Vi[)e]n'n[.a].
Vinci, Leonardo da (l[=a]-[=o]-när'd[=o] da v[)i]n'ch[=e]).
Voragine, Jacopo de (yä'k[=o]-p[=o] d[.a] v[=o]-rä-j[=e]'n[.=a]).
V[)u]l'g[=a]te.

Wesley (w[)e]s'l[)i]).

Yuste (y[=o][=o]s't[=a]).

Zacharias (z[)a]k-[.a]-r[=i]'[.a]s).

FOOTNOTES

[1] See notes on Titian in Vasari's _Lives of the Painters_,
edited by E. H. and E. W. Blashfield and A. A. Hopkins.

[2] Notes on Titian in Vasari's _Lives of the Painters_, by E. H.
and E. W. Blashfield and A. A. Hopkins.

[3] Claude Phillips.

[4] Compiled from the Index to _Titian: His Life and Times_,
by Crowe and Cavalcaselle.

[5] As the various so-called portraits of Vesalius are said to
have little in common upon which to base a resemblance, one is
almost tempted to set up a theory that this portrait may be
that of the great anatomist.

[6] 1 Samuel, chapter i., verses 11, 24-28.

[7] _The Golden Legend_, in Caxton's translation, edited by F. S.
Ellis (Temple Classics, vol. v., pp. 101, 102). The story is
retold in Mrs. Jameson's _Legends of the Madonna_, p. 197.

[8] For instance, Lavinia, Flora, and the Man with the Glove.

[9] See the Acts of the Apostles, chapters vi. and vii.

[10] The lives of St. Jerome and St. George are related in detail
in _The Golden Legend_. See Caxton's translation edited by
F. S. Ellis (Temple Classics), vol. v., pages 199-208, for
St. Jerome, vol. iii., pages 125-134, for St. George. Mrs.
Jameson's _Sacred and Legendary Art_ contains condensed
accounts of the same two saints. See page 280 for St. Jerome
and page 391 for St. George.

[11] See the story as related in Mrs. Jameson's _Sacred and
Legendary Art_, page 433, and in H. E. Scudder's _Book
of Legends_.

[12] Claude Phillips.

[13] Matthew, chapter xxii., verses 34-40.

[14] Others are the Venus of the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, and the
Girl in the Fur Cloak in the Belvedere, Vienna.

[15] See page 15.

[16] In the later Venetian art, as in the pictures by Veronese,
we see more elaborate costumes.

[17] See Book VII. in Henry King's translation, from which the
quotations here are drawn. The same story is delightfully
modernized in Hawthorne's _Tanglewood Tales_ and Kingsley's
_Greek Heroes_.

[18] See the volume on _Greek Sculpture_ in the Riverside Art
Series, chap. xiii.

[19] In our reproduction a small portion of the landscape is cut
off at each end.

[20] From _Gareth and Lynette_.

[21] From _Guinevere_.

[22] This analysis of Mary's character is suggested in the
Introduction to Mrs. Jameson's _Legends of the Madonna_,
p. 28.

[23] See the volume on _Murillo_ in the Riverside Art Series,
Chapter I.

[24] See _The Golden Legend_, in Caxton's translation, edited by
F. S. Ellis (Temple Classics), vol. iv., pages 238, 239, 245.

[25] Mrs. Jameson in _Sacred and Legendary Art_, page 74.

[26] See page 57.

[27] This feature of the picture is pointed out by John Van Dyke
in his notes on Closson's engraving of the subject.

[28] It should be remembered that a portion of Elizabeth's reign
(1538-1603) fell within Titian's lifetime.

[29] See _Elements of Drawing_, Lecture III.

[30] Luke, chapter iii., verse 6.

[31] Luke, chapter iii., verses 21, 22.

[32] John, chapter i., verses 29-30.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Titian; a collection of fifteen pictures and a portrait of the painter" ***

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