ated, lays his hand paternally on her head; beside her kneels a
Benedictine nun, who in the game manner is presented by St. Benedict.
These two females, sisters perhaps, are the bereaved mourners who
dedicated the picture, certainly one of the finest of the Giottesque
school.[1]

[Footnote 1: It is now in the gallery of the Uffizii, at Florence. In
the Florentine edition of Vasari the name of the church in which this
picture was originally placed is called San _Romeo_, who is St. Remi
(or Remigio), Bishop of Reims. The painter, Giottino, the greatest and
the most interesting, personally, of the Giottesque artists, was, as
Vasari says, "of a melancholy temperament, and a lover of solitude;"
"more desirous of glory than of gain;" "contented with little, and
thinking more of serving and gratifying others than of himself;"
"taking small care for himself, and perpetually engrossed by the works
he had undertaken." He died of consumption, in 1356, at the age of
thirty two.]

Secondly, we find that the associations left in the minds of the
people by the expeditions of the Crusaders and the pilgrimages to
the Holy Sepulchre, rendered the Deposition and the Entombment
particularly popular and impressive as subjects of art, even down to
a late period. "Ce que la vaillante epee des ayeux avait glorieusement
defendu, le ciscaux des enfans aimait a le reproduire, leur piete a
l'honorer." I think we may trace these associations in many examples,
particularly in a Deposition by Raphael, of which there is a fine old
engraving. Here, in the centre, stands a circular building, such as
the church at Jerusalem was always described; in front of which are
seen the fainting Virgin and the mournful women: a grand and solemn
group, but poetically rather than historically treated.

* * * * *

In conclusion, I must notice one more form of the Mater Dolorosa, one
of the dramatic conceptions of the later schools of art; as far as I
knew, there exist no early examples.

In a picture by Guercino (Louvre), the Virgin and St. Peter lament the
death of the Saviour. The Mother, with her clasped hands resting on
her knees, appears lost in resigned sorrow: she mourns her Son. Peter,
weeping, as with a troubled grief, seems to mourn at once his Lord
and Master, and his own weak denial. This picture has the energetic
feeling and utter want of poetic elevation which generally
characterized Guercino.

There is a similar gr