's portrait
of Evangelista Scappi, so rich and real and a picture that one never
forgets. Raphael's Julius II comes next, not so powerful as the version
in the Pitti, and above that Titian's famous Venus. In Perugino's
portrait of Francesco delle Opere, No. 287, we find an evening sky
and landscape still more lovely than Francia's. This Francesco was
brother of Giovanni delle Corniole, a protege of Lorenzo de' Medici,
famous as a carver of intaglios, whose portrait of Savonarola in
this medium, now preserved in the Uffizi, in the Gem Room, was said
by Michelangelo to carry art to its farthest possible point.

A placid and typical Perugino--the Virgin and two saints--comes next,
and then a northern air sweeps in with Van Dyck's Giovanni di Montfort,
now darkening into gloom but very fine and commanding. Titian's second
Venus is above, for which his daughter Lavinia acted as model (the
Venus of the other version being possibly the Marchesa della Rovere),
and under it is the only Luini in the Uffizi, unmistakably from the
sweet hand and full of Leonardesque influence. Beneath this is a rich
and decorative work of the Veronese school, a portrait of Elisabetta
Gonzaga, with another evening sky. Then we go north again, to Duerer's
Adoration of the Magi, a picture full of pleasant detail--a little
mountain town here, a knight in difficulties with his horse there,
two butterflies close to the Madonna--and interesting also for the
treatment of the main theme in Duerer's masterly careful way; and then
to Spain to Spagnoletto's "S. Jerome" in sombre chiaroscuro; then north
again to a painfully real Christ crowned with thorns, by Lucas van
Leyden, and the mousy, Reynoldsy, first wife of Peter Paul Rubens,
while a Van Dyck portrait under a superb Domenichino and an "Adam
and Eve" by Lucas Cranach complete the northern group. And so we come
to the two Correggios--so accomplished and rich and untouching--all
delightful virtuosity without feeling. The favourite is, of course,
No. 1134, for its adorable Baby, whose natural charm atones for its
theatrical Mother.

On the other side of the door is No. 1129, the perfect "Madonna
del Cardellino" of Raphael, so called from the goldfinch that the
little boys are caressing. This, one is forced to consider one of the
perfect pictures of the world, even though others may communicate more
pleasure. The landscape is so exquisite and the mild sweetness of the
whole work so complete; and yet, alth