t is probable he gave
all his attention to adorning the convent, which on account of the
works he has left there, may fairly be considered one of the finest
monuments of Italian art.

It was not the first time that Fra Angelico had painted large mural
frescoes. As he had already shown at Fiesole his mastery in that more
minute style, which was to find more complete expression in the Roman
pictures, so the convent of San Marco gave him scope to prove his
genius also in this freer branch of art. In the cloisters, the
corridors, the cells, and the rooms in which the monks met together,
we find specimens of his artistic work, and in these various pictures
all his favourite personages reappear one by one in larger
proportions, but without losing that original grace and sentiment with
which his smaller works are imbued. Indeed these show that he had
studied from the life with independence and sincerity of purpose, and
could render it with greater facility and decision.

A very noteworthy change in the character of Fra Angelico's art may be
observed in these mural paintings. He must have perceived, after
painting the tabernacle for the Linen Weavers' Guild, that a deeper
study of the real was necessary to give life to his figures,
especially when these should assume larger proportions.

To give intelligent expression even to dreams, visions and ideality
of thought, a material and technical part is necessary; the mind may
wander free in fantasy, through indefinite space, but it needs a firm
hand to render the conception evident; and the clearer the expression
is, the greater ability in the creation of his works does it show in
the artist. Thus Fra Angelico, placing his figures in ideal
surroundings, believed at first that refined thought was sufficient to
make a perfect picture, and he illuminated his little figures with
superficial delicacy, surrounding them with azure and gold, and so
idealized them that they are more like diaphanous apparitions than
human beings.

[Illustration: CHRIST ON THE CROSS.]

But he soon learned that by merely enlarging these little pictures, he
could not succeed in giving them even that individuality to which he
was led by natural taste and mode of life. In fact, what a difference
lies between the figures of the Linen Weavers' Tabernacle painted in
1433, and those of the picture in the church of San Marco done in
1438! The first: void, weak and without expression; the second: full
of life an