the fineness of nature, the benign god-like dignity, suffused with the profoundest sorrow, in this divine head, surpassed all I could have conceived as possible in Art; and, faded as it is, the character there, being stamped on it by the soul, not the hand, of the artist, will remain while a line or hue remains visible. It is a divine shadow, and, until it fades into nothing, and disappears utterly, will have the lineaments of divinity. Next to Christ is St. John; he has just been addressed by Peter, who beckons to him that he should ask "of whom the Lord spake." His disconsolate attitude, as he has raised himself to reply, and leans his clasped hands on the table, the almost feminine sweetness of his countenance, express the character of this gentle and amiable apostle. Peter, leaning from behind, is all fire and energy; Judas, who knows full well of whom the Saviour spake, starts back amazed, oversetting the salt; his fingers clutch the bag, of which he has the charge, with that action which Dante describes as characteristic of the avaricious:

Questi risurgeranno dal sepolcro

Col pugno chiuso.

These from the tomb with clenched grasp shall rise.

His face is seen in profile, and cast into shadow; without being vulgar, or even ugly, it is hateful. St. Andrew, with his long gray beard, lifts up his hands, expressing the wonder of a simple-hearted old man. St. James Minor, resembling the Saviour in his mild features, and the form of his beard and hair, lays his hand on the shoulder of St. Peter the expression is, "Can it be possible? Have we heard aright?” Bartholomew, at the extreme end of the table, has risen perturbed from his seat; he leans forward with a look of eager attention, the lips parted; he is impatient to hear more. (The fine copy of Oggione, in the Royal Academy, does not give this anxious look he is attentive only.) On the left of our Saviour is St. James Major, who has also a family resemblance to Christ; his arms are outstretched, he shrinks back, he repels the thought with horror. The vivacity of the action and expression are wonderfully true and characteristic. (Morghen, the engraver, erroneously supposed this to represent St. Thomas, and placed on the border of his robe an inscription fixing the identity; which inscription, as Bossi asserts, never

did exist in the original picture.) St. Thomas is behind St. James, rather young, with a short beard; he holds up his hand, threatening-"If there be indeed such a wretch, let him look to it." Philip, young and with a beautiful head, lays his hand on his heart; he protests his love, his truth. Matthew, also beardless, has more elegance, as one who belonged to a more educated class than the rest; he turns to Jude and points to our Saviour, as if about to repeat His words, "Do you hear what He says?" Simon and Jude sit together (Leonardo has followed the tradition which makes them old and brothers); Jude expresses consternation; Simon, with his hands stretched out, a painful anxiety.

To understand the wonderful skill with which this composition has been arranged, it ought to be studied long and minutely; and, to appreciate its relative excellence, it ought to be compared with other productions of the same period. Leonardo has contrived to break the formality of the line of heads without any apparent artifice, and without disturbing the grand simplicity of the usual order; and he has vanquished the difficulties in regard to the position of Judas, without making him too prominent. He has imparted to a solemn scene sufficient movement and variety of action, without detracting from its dignity and pathos; he has kept the expression of each head true to the traditional character, without exaggeration, without effort. To have done this, to have been the first to do this, required the far-reaching philosophic mind, not less than the excelling hand, of this "miracle of nature," as Mr. Hallam styles Leonardo, with reference to his scientific as well as his artistic powers.

And now to turn to another miracle of nature, Raphael. He has given us three compositions for the Last Supper. The fresco lately discovered in the refectory of Sant' Onofrio [now known as the "Egyptian Museum"], at Florence, is an early work painted in his twenty-third year (A. D. 1505). The authenticity of this picture has been vehemently disputed; 1 for myself as far as my opinion is worth anything — I never,

1 [For the opinion of those who attribute this fresco to Raphael see Gazette des Beaux Arts, 1872, vol. ii. p. 299. In the judgment of Kugler and of Crowe and Cavalcaselle it is the work of Gerino da Pistoia.]

after the first five minutes, had a doubt on the subject. As to its being the work of Neri de' Bicci, I do not believe it possible; and as for the written documents brought forward to prove this, I turn from them to "the handwriting on the wall," and there I see, in characters of light, RAPHAEL - and him only. It is, however, a youthful work, full of sentiment and grace, but deficient, it appears to me, in that depth and discrimination of character displayed in his later works. It is evident that he had studied Giotto's fresco in the neighboring Santa Croce. The arrangement is nearly the same.

Christ is in the centre; His right hand is raised, and He is about to speak; the left hand is laid, with extreme tenderness in the attitude and expression, on the shoulder of John, who reclines upon Him. To the right of Christ is St. Peter, the head of the usual character; next to him St. Andrew, with the flowing gray hair and long divided beard; St. James Minor, the head declined resembling Christ: he holds a cup. St. Philip is seen in profile with a white beard (this is contrary to the received tradition, which makes him young; and I doubt the correctness of this appellation). St. James Major, at the extreme end of the table, looks out of the picture; Raphael has apparently represented himself in this apostle. On the left of Christ, after St. John, is St. Bartholomew; he holds a knife, and has the black beard and dark complexion usually given to him. Then Matthew, something like Peter, but milder and more refined. Thomas, young and handsome, pours wine into a cup; last, on the right, are Simon and Jude; Raphael has followed the tradition which supposes them young, and the kinsmen of our Saviour. Judas sits on a stool on the near side of the table, opposite to Christ, and while he dips his hand into the dish he looks round to the spectators; he has the Jewish features, red hair and beard, and a bad expression. All have glories; but the glory round the head of Judas is much smaller than the others. This is also observable in the Last Supper by Niccolò Petri in the San Francesco at Pisa.

In the second composition, one of the series of the Life of Christ, in the Loggie of the Vatican, Raphael has placed the apostles round a table, four on each of the three sides Saviour presiding in the centre. John and Peter, who are, as usual, nearest to Christ, look to Him with an animated appeal

; our

ing expression. Judas is in front, looking away from the rest, and as if about to rise. The other heads are not well discriminated, nor is the moment well expressed; there is, indeed, something confused and inharmonious, unlike Raphael, in the whole composition. I pass it over, therefore, without further remark, to come to the third example-a masterpiece of his later years, worthy as a composition of being compared with Leonardo's; but, never having been painted, we can only pronounce it perfect as far as it goes. The original drawing enriches the collection of the Queen of England: the admirable engraving of Marc Antonio, said to have been touched by Raphael, is before me while I write. From the disposition of the unshod feet as seen under the table, it is styled by col-. lectors "il pezzo dei piedi;" from the arrangement of the table and figures it was probably designed for a refectory.

In the centre is Christ, with both hands resting on the table; in the head, a melancholy resignation. Peter is on the right, his hand on his breast. John, on the left, places both hands on his breast, with a most animated expression, "You cannot believe it is I?" Andrew has laid his hand on the shoulder of Peter, and leans forward with a sad interrogative expression. The head of Judas has features akin to those of the antique satyr, with the look askance of a detected villain; he has heard the words, but he dares not meet the eye, of his Divine Master: he has no purse. James Minor, next to John, with his hands extended, seems to speak sadly to Philip: "And they began to inquire among themselves, which of them should do this thing?" The whole composition is less dramatic, has less variety of action and attitude, than that of Leonardo, but is full of deep melancholy feeling.

The Cenacolo of Andrea del Sarto, in the Convent of the Salvi near Florence, takes, I believe, the third rank after those of Leonardo and Raphael. He has chosen the selfsame moment, "One of you shall betray me." The figures are, as usual, ranged on one side of a long table. Christ, in the centre, holds a piece of bread in His hand; on His left is St. John, and on His right St. James Major, both seen in profile. The face of St. John expresses interrogation; that of St. James, interrogation and a start of amazement. Next to St. James are Peter, Thomas, Andrew; then Philip, who has a small

cross upon his breast. After St. John come James Minor, Simon, Jude, Judas Iscariot, and Bartholomew. Judas, with his hands folded together, leans forward, and looks down, with a round mean face, in which there is no power of any kind, not even of malignity. In passing almost immediately from the Cenacolo in the St. Onofrio to that in the Salvi, we feel strongly all the difference between the mental and moral superiority of Raphael at the age of twenty and the artistic greatness of Andrea in the maturity of his age and talent. This fresco deserves its high celebrity. It is impossible to look on it without admiration, considered as a work of Art. The variety of the attitudes, the disposition of the limbs beneath the table, the ample, tasteful draperies, deserve the highest praise; but the heads are deficient in character and elevation, and the whole composition wants that solemnity of feeling proper to the subject.

The Cenacolo of Titian, painted for Philip II. for the altar of his chapel in the Escurial, is also a notable example of the want of proper reverential feeling: two servants are in attendance; Judas is in front, averting his head, which is in deep shadow; a dog is under the table, and the Holy Ghost is descending from above.

In

Niccolò Poussin has three times painted the Cenacolo.1 the two series of the Seven Sacraments, he has, of course, represented the institution of the Eucharist, as proper to his subject; in both instances, in that pure and classical taste proper to himself. In the best and largest composition, the apostles are reclining on couches round the table. Christ holds a plate full of bread, and appears as saying, "Take, eat." Four are putting the morsel into their mouths. Judas is seen behind, with an abject look, stealing out of the room.

The faults which I have observed in pictures of this subject are chiefly met with in the Venetian, Flemish, and later Bolognese schools. When the motif selected is the institution. of the Eucharist, it is a fault to sacrifice the solemnity and religious import of the scene in order to render it more dramatic it ought not to be dramatic; but the pervading senti

[1 Poussin's Christ instituting the Sacrament of the Eucharist is in the Louvre.]