s time, in architecture as well as in painting;
he was the friend of Dante, and the undisputed interpreter of
religious truth, by means of painting, over the whole of Italy. The
works of such a man may not be the best to set before children in
order to teach them drawing; but they assuredly should be studied with
the greatest care by all who are interested in the history of the
human mind.

One point more remains to be noticed respecting him. As far as I am
aware, he never painted profane subjects. All his important existing
works are exclusively devoted to the illustration of Christianity.
This was not a result of his own peculiar feeling or determination; it
was a necessity of the period. Giotto appears to have considered
himself simply as a workman, at the command of any employer, for any
kind of work, however humble. "In the sixty-third novel of Franco
Sacchetti we read that a stranger, suddenly entering Giotto's study,
threw down a shield, and departed, saying, 'Paint me my arms on that
shield.' Giotto looking after him, exclaimed, 'Who is he? What is he?
He says, "Paint me my arms," as if he was one of the BARDI. What arms
does he bear?'"[7] But at the time of Giotto's eminence, art was never
employed on a great scale except in the service of religion; nor has
it ever been otherwise employed, except in declining periods. I do not
mean to draw any severe conclusion from this fact; but it is a fact
nevertheless, which ought to be very distinctly stated, and very
carefully considered. All _progressive_ art hitherto has been
religious art; and commencements of the periods of decline are
accurately marked, in illumination, by its employment on romances
instead of psalters; and in painting, by its employment on mythology
or profane history instead of sacred history. Yet perhaps I should
rather have said, on _heathen mythology_ instead of _Christian
mythology_; for this latter term--first used, I believe, by Lord
Lindsay--is more applicable to the subjects of the early painters than
that of "sacred _history_." Of all the virtues commonly found in the
higher orders of human mind, that of a stern and just respect for
truth seems to be the rarest; so that while self-denial, and courage,
and charity, and religious zeal, are displayed in their utmost degrees
by myriads of saints and heroes, it is only once in a century that a
man appears whose word may be implicitly trusted, and who, in the
relation of a plain fact, will not