whatever appears slight or
inconsiderate in his theory or statements, and with the more severity,
because this was alone wanting to render the book one of the most
valuable gifts which Art has ever received. Of the translations from the
lives of the saints we have hardly spoken; they are gracefully rendered,
and all of them highly interesting--but we could wish to see these, and
the enumerations of fresco subjects[11] with which the other volumes are
in great part occupied, published separately for the convenience of
travelers in Italy. They are something out of place in a work like that
before us. For the rest, we might have more interested the reader, and
gratified ourselves, by setting before him some of the many passages of
tender feeling and earnest eloquence with which the volumes are
replete--but we felt it necessary rather to anticipate the hesitation
with which they were liable to be received, and set limits to the halo
of fancy by which their light is obscured--though enlarged. One or two
paragraphs, however, of the closing chapter must be given before we
part:--

* * *

96. "What a scene of beauty, what a flower-garden of art--how bright and
how varied--must Italy have presented at the commencement of the
sixteenth century, at the death of Raphael! The sacrileges we lament
took place for the most part after that period; hundreds of frescoes,
not merely of Giotto and those other elders of Christian Art, but of
Gentile da Fabriano, Pietro della Francesca, Perugino and their
compeers, were still existing, charming the eye, elevating the mind, and
warming the heart. Now alas! few comparatively and fading are the relics
of those great and good men. While Dante's voice rings as clear as ever,
communing with us as friend with friend, theirs is dying gradually away,
fainter and fainter, like the farewell of a spirit. Flaking off the
walls, uncared for and neglected save in a few rare instances, scarce
one of their frescoes will survive the century, and the labors of the
next may not improbably be directed to the recovery and restoration of
such as may still slumber beneath the whitewash and the daubs with which
the Bronzinos and Zuccheros 'et id genus omne' have unconsciously sealed
them up for posterity--their best title to our gratitude.--But why not
begin at once? at all events in the instances numberless, where merely
whitewash interposes between us and them.

"It is easy to reply--what nee