mpse on their way hither, shone like a white
lily in the morning sunlight. The sweet, invigorating air, the bustle of
the busy streets, the happiness of youth and pleasant expectancy caused
all hearts to beat high, and it was a group of eager faces that turned
toward the grand old church whose marble sides show the discoloration of
centuries.

At Mr. Sumner's invitation all sat on the steps in a sunny corner while
he talked of Cimabue,--the first great name in the history of Italian
painting,--the man who was great enough to dare attempt to change
conditions that existed in his time, which was the latter part of the
thirteenth century. He told them how, though a nobleman possessing
wealth and honor, he had loved painting and had given his life to it;
and how, having been a man arrogant of all criticism, he was fitted to
be a pioneer; to break from old traditions, and to infuse life into the
dead Byzantine art.

He told them how the people, ever quick to feel any change, were
delighted to recognize, in a picture, life, movement, and expression,
however slight. How, one day six hundred years ago, a gay procession,
with banners and songs, bore a large painting, the _Madonna and Child_,
from the artist's studio, quite a distance away, through the streets and
up to the steps on which they were sitting; and how priests chanting
hymns and bearing church banners came out to receive the picture.

"And through all these centuries it has here remained," he continued.
"It is, of course, scarred by time and dark with the smoke of incense.
When you look upon it I wish you would remember what I told you the
other evening about that for which we should look in a picture. Be
sympathetic. Put yourself in old Cimabue's place and in that of the
people who had known only such figures in painting as the _Magdalen_ you
saw last week in the Academy. Then, though these figures are so stiff
and almost lifeless, though the picture is Byzantine in character, you
will see beyond all this a faint expression in the Madonna's face, a
little life and action in the Christ-child, who holds up his tiny hand
in blessing.

"If you do not look for this you may miss it,--miss all that which gives
worth to Cimabue and his art. As thoughtful a mind as that of our own
Hawthorne saw only the false in it, and missed the attempt for truth;
and so said he only wished 'another procession would come and take the
picture from the church, and reverently burn it.' Ah