painter, his
work, so sweet and lovely at its best, is at its worst little better
than a repetition of his own mannerisms. Here, in the Uffizi, however,
we have four of his best works--the three great portraits, Francesco
delle Opere (287), Alessandro Braccesi (1217), and the Portrait of a
Lady (1120), long given to Raphael, but which Mr. Berenson assures us is
Perugino's; and the Madonna and Child of the Tribuna, painted in 1493.
The Francesco delle Opere was perhaps his first portrait, full of
virility beyond anything else in his work, save his own portrait at
Perugia. For many years this picture, owing, it might seem, to a mistake
of the Chevalier Montalvo, was supposed to represent Perugino himself,
so that the picture was hung in the Gallery of the Portraits of
Painters. At last an inscription was discovered on the back of the
picture, which reads as follows: _1494, D'Luglio Pietro Perugino Pinse
Franco Delopa_.

Francesco delle Opere was a Florentine painter, the brother of Giovanni
delle Corniole. He died at Venice, and it may well be that it was at
Venice that Perugino first met him. Perugino's picture shows us
Francesco, a clean-shaven and young person, holding a scroll on which is
written, "Trineta Deum;" the portrait is a half-length, and the hands
are visible. In the background is a characteristic country of hill and
valley under the deep serene sky, the light and clear golden air that we
see in so much of his work. The Portrait of a Lady (1120), long given to
Raphael, comes to the Uffizi from the Grand Ducal Villa of Poggio a
Caiano; it was supposed to be the portrait of Maddalena Strozzi, wife of
Angela Doni. The portrait shows us a young woman, in a Florentine dress
of the period, while around her neck is a gold chain, from which hangs a
little cross. The Portrait of a Young Man (1217) is painted on wood, and
is life size.

The Madonna and Child, with two Saints, was painted in 1493 for the
Church of S. Domenico at Fiesole, and was placed in the Uffizi by the
Grand Duke Peter Leopold in 1756. Madonna sits a little indifferent on a
throne under an archway, holding the Child, who turns towards St. John
Baptist as he gazes languidly on the ground; while St. Sebastian, a
beautiful youth, stands on the other side, looking upwards, and though
the arrows have pierced his flesh, he is still full of affected grace,
and is so occupied with his prayers that he has not noticed them. On the
base of the throne, Peru