ations and Holy Families. In the "Adoration of
the Magi," in the Academy, the Madonna is a handsome, prosperous lady of
Bonifazio's acquaintance. The Child, so far from raising His hand in
benediction, holds it out for the proffered cup. He does not, as usual,
distinguish the eldest king, but singles out the cup held by the second,
who, in a puffed velvet dress, is an evident portrait, probably that of
the donor of the picture, who is in this way paid a courtier-like
compliment. The third king is such a Moor as Bonifazio must often have
seen embarking from his Eastern galley on the Riva dei Schiavoni. A
servant in a peaked hood peers round the column to catch sight of what
is going on. The groups of animals in the background are well rendered.
In the "Rich Man's Feast," where Lazarus lies upon the step, we have
another scene of wealthy and sumptuous Venetian society, an orgy of
colour. And, again, in the "Finding of Moses" (Brera) he paints nobles
playing the lute, making love and feasting, and lovely fair-haired women
listening complacently. We are reminded of the way in which they lived:
their one preoccupation the toilet, the delight of appearing in public
in the latest and most magnificent fashions. And in these paintings
Bonifazio depicts the elaborate striped and brocaded gowns in which the
beautiful Venetians arrayed themselves, made in the very fashions of the
year, and their thick, fair hair is twisted and coiled in the precise
mode of the moment. The deep-red velvet he introduces into nearly all
his pictures is of a hue peculiar to himself. As Catena often brings in
a little white lap-dog, so Bonifazio constantly has as an accessory a
liver-and-white spaniel.

Vasari speaks of Paris Bordone as the artist who most successfully
imitated Titian. He was the son of well-to-do tradespeople in Treviso,
and received a good education in music and letters, before being sent
off to Venice and placed in Titian's studio. Bordone does not seem to
have been on very friendly terms with Titian. He was dissatisfied with
his teaching, and Titian played him an ill turn in wresting from him a
commission to paint an altarpiece which had been entrusted to him when
he was only eighteen. He was, above all, in love with the manner of
the dead Giorgione, and it was upon this master that he aspired to
form his style. His masterpiece, in the Academy, was painted for the
Confraternity of St. Mark, and made his reputation. The legend it
rep