utely
full-fledged.

The _Three Ages_, from its analogies of type and manner with the
_Baptism_ of the Capitol, would appear to be the earlier of the two
imaginative works here grouped together, but to date later than that
picture.[18] The tonality of the picture is of an exquisite
silveriness--that of clear, moderate daylight, though this relative
paleness may have been somewhat increased by time. It may a little
disconcert at first sight those who have known the lovely pastoral only
from hot, brown copies, such as the one which, under the name of
Giorgione, was formerly in the Dudley House Collection, and now belongs
to Sir William Farrer. It is still so difficult to battle with the
deeply-rooted notion that there can be no Giorgione, no painting of his
school, without the accompaniment of a rich brown sauce! The shepherdess
has a robe of fairest crimson, and her flower-crowned locks in tint more
nearly approach to the _blond cendre_ which distinguishes so many of
Palma's _donne_ than to the ruddier gold that Titian himself generally
affects. The more passionate of the two, she gazes straight into the
eyes of her strong-limbed rustic lover, who half-reclining rests his
hand upon her shoulder. On the twin reed-pipes, which she still holds in
her hands, she has just breathed forth a strain of music, and to it, as
it still lingers in their ears, they yield themselves entranced. Here
the youth is naked, the maid clothed and adorned--a reversal, this, of
Giorgione's _Fete Champetre_ in the Salon Carre of the Louvre, where the
women are undraped, and the amorous young cavaliers appear in complete
and rich attire. To the right are a group of thoroughly Titianesque
amorini--the winged one, dominating the others, being perhaps Amor
himself; while in the distance an old man contemplates skulls ranged
round him on the ground--obvious reminders of the last stage of all, at
which he has so nearly arrived. There is here a wonderful unity between
the even, unaccented harmony of the delicate tonality and the mood of
the personages--the one aiding the other to express the moment of pause
in nature and in love, which in itself is a delight more deep than all
that the very whirlwind of passion can give. Near at hand may be
pitfalls, the smiling love-god may prove less innocent than he looks,
and in the distance Fate may be foreshadowed by the figure of weary Age
awaiting Death. Yet this one moment is all the lovers' own, and they
profa