and which invests them with an irresistible
charm. The San Giovannino, also in the Vanchettoni, is a more concrete
version of childhood, but is by the same hand as its fellow. These
four busts fail to characterise the child's head; not indeed that
characterisation was needed to make an enchanting work, but that
Donatello's children elsewhere show more of the individual touches of
the master and personal notes of the child. The Duke of Westminster
possesses a life-sized head of a boy,[155] which is palpably by
Donatello, though no document exists to prove it. We have all the
essentials of Donatello's modelling; the handling is uncompromising
and firm; the child is treated more like a portrait. Indeed, many of
these children's busts, even when symbolised by St. John's rough
tunic, were avowed portraits--the Martelli San Giovannino, for
instance, which from Vasari's time has been ascribed, and probably
with justice, to Donatello. This little head enjoys a reputation which
it scarcely deserves. The expression is dull, the hair grows so low
that scarcely any forehead is visible; the cheeks bulge out, and
the mouth is too small. We have, in fact, a lifelike presentment of
some boy, perhaps of the Martelli family, showing him at his least
prepossessing moment, when the bloom of childhood has passed away, and
before the lines have been fined down and merged into the stronger
contours of youth. Desiderio would have improved Nature by modifying
the boy's features, and we should have had a work comparable to those
previously mentioned. But Donatello (and perhaps his patrons)
preferred a less idealised version. The Martelli figure, and a most
important boy's bust belonging to Frau Hainauer in Berlin, are now
usually ascribed to Rossellino. But his St. John in the Bargello,
where all the features are softened down, and his authenticated work
in San Miniato and elsewhere, make the attribution open to question.
The St. John at Faenza is also denied to be by Donatello; one of the
critics who is quite certain on the point believes the bust to be made
of wood! These problems cannot be settled by spending ten _lire_ on
photographs. The bust at Faenza,[156] though a faithful portrait, is
one of the most romantic specimens of childhood depicted by Donatello.
Admirably modelled, and with a surface like ivory, it gives the
intimate characteristics of the model. Nothing has been embellished or
suppressed, if we may judge from the absolute seque