g of all Tintoretto's creations, the "S. Mary of
Egypt," the emotional mood of Nature's self is brought home to us. The
trees that dominate the landscape are painted with a few "strokes like
sabre cuts"; the landscape, given with apparent carelessness, yet
conveying an indescribable sense of space and solemnity, unfolds itself
under the dying day; and in solitary meditation, thrilling with ecstasy,
sits that little figure, whose heart has travelled far away to commune
with the Spirit, "whose dwelling is the light of setting suns."

It is not possible in a short space to touch, even in passing, on all
the many scenes in these halls: the "Annunciation," with its marvellous
flight of cherubs, reminding us of the flight of pigeons in the Piazza,
and how often the old painter must have watched them; the "Temptation,"
contrasting the throbbing evil, the flesh that _must_ be fed, with the
calm of absolute purity; the "Massacre of the Innocents," for which the
horrors of sacked towns could have supplied many a parallel,--we have
not time to dwell on these, but we may notice how the artist has
overcome the difficulty of seeing clearly in the dark halls, by choosing
strong and varied effects of light for the most shadowed spaces, and we
can picture what the halls must have been like when they first glowed
from his hand, adorned with gilded fretwork and moulding, and hung with
opulent draperies, with the rose-red and purple of bishops' and
cardinals' robes reflected in the gleaming pavement.

[Illustration: _Tintoretto._ _Scuola di San Rocco._
S. MARY OF EGYPT.
(_Photo, Anderson._)]

Leonardo, by one supreme example, Tintoretto, by many renderings, have
made the "Last Supper" peculiarly their own in the domain of art. It
shows how strongly the mystic strain entered into the man's character,
that often as Tintoretto treated the subject, it never lost its interest
for him, and he never failed to find a fresh point of view. In that
in S. Polo, Christ offers the sacred food with a gesture of vehement
generosity. Placed as the picture is, to appeal to all comers to the
Mass, to afford them a welcome as they pass to the High Altar, it tells
of the Bread of Life given to all mankind. Tintoretto himself, painted
in the character of S. Paul, stands at one side, absorbed in meditation.
We need not insist again on the emotional value of the deep colours, the
rich creams and crimsons and the chiaroscur