-not in itself an uninteresting one--of the slips or
shortcomings of great masters. One incident in it only is worth
observing. In other compositions of this time, and in many later ones,
the kings are generally presenting their offerings themselves, and the
Child takes them in His hand, or smiles at them. The painters who
thought this an undignified conception left the presents in the hands
of the attendants of the Magi. But Giotto considers how presents
would be received by an actual king; and as what has been offered to a
monarch is delivered to the care of his attendants, Giotto puts a
waiting angel to receive the gifts, as not worthy to be placed in the
hands of the Infant.

* * * * *

XVIII.

THE PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE.

This design is one of those which are peculiarly characteristic of
Giotto as the head of the Naturalisti.[21] No painter before his time
would have dared to represent the Child Jesus as desiring to quit the
arms of Simeon, or the Virgin as in some sort interfering with the
prophet's earnest contemplation of the Child by stretching her arms to
receive Him. The idea is evidently a false one, quite unworthy of the
higher painters of the religious school; and it is a matter of
peculiar interest to see what must have been the strength of Giotto's
love of plain facts, which could force him to stoop so low in the
conception of this most touching scene. The Child does not, it will be
observed, merely stretch its arm to the Madonna, but is even
struggling to escape, violently raising the left foot. But there is
another incident in the composition, witnessing as notably to Giotto's
powerful grasp of all the facts of his subject as this does to his
somewhat hard and plain manner of grasping them;--I mean the angel
approaching Simeon, as if with a message. The peculiar interest of the
Presentation is for the most part inadequately represented in
painting, because it is impossible to imply the fact of Simeon's
having waited so long in the hope of beholding his Lord, or to inform
the spectator of the feeling in which he utters the song of hope
fulfilled. Giotto has, it seems to me, done all that he could to make
us remember this peculiar meaning of the scene; for I think I cannot
be deceived in interpreting the flying angel, with its branch of palm
or lily, to be the Angel of Death, sent in visible fulfilment of the
thankful words of Simeon: "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy se