etian
pictorial rendering, tells how a man who was working on the Campanile
fell, and as he fell had the presence of mind to cry "S. Mark! S. Mark!"
whereupon a branch instantly sprang forth from the masonry below and
sustained him until help arrived. Tintoretto, who has other miracles of
S. Mark in the Royal Palace here and in the Brera at Milan, would have
drawn that falling workman magnificently.

This room also has two of Tintoretto's simpler canvases--an Adam and Eve
(with an error in it, for they are clothed before the apple is eaten)
and a Cain and Abel. The other pictures are altar-pieces of much
sweetness, by Giovanni Bellini, Carpaccio, Basaiti and Cima. The
Carpaccio is the best known by reason of the little charming celestial
orchestra at the foot of it, with, in the middle, the adorable
mandolinist who has been reproduced as a detail to gladden so many
thousands of walls. All have quiet radiance.

High over the door by which we entered is a masterly aristocratic
allegory by Paul Veronese--Venice with Hercules and Ceres--notable for
the superb drawing and vivacity of the cupid with the wheat sheaf. I
give a reproduction opposite page 102, but the Cupid unfortunately is
not distinct enough.

Room III has a Spanish picture by Ribera, interesting so near the
Tintorettos, and little else.

I am not sure that I am not happier in Room IV than anywhere else in
this gallery, for here are the drawings, and by an odd chance Venice is
rich in Leonardos. She is rich too in Raphaels, but that is less
important. Among the Leonardos, chiefly from his note books, look at No.
217, a child's leg; No. 257, children; No. 256, a darling little "Virgin
adoring"; No. 230, a family group, very charming; No. 270, a smiling
woman (but this possibly is by an imitator); No. 233, a dancing figure;
No. 231, the head of Christ; and the spirited corner of a cavalry
battle. Some of the Raphaels are exquisite, notably No. 23, a Madonna
adoring; No. 32, a baby; No. 89, a mother and child; and No. 50, a
flying angel.

In Room V are many pictures, few of which are good enough. It belongs to
the school of Giovanni Bellini and is conspicuous for the elimination of
character. Vacuous bland countenances, indicative merely of pious
mildness, surround you, reaching perhaps their highest point of meek
ineffectually in Bissolo.

The next room has nothing but dingy northern pictures in a bad light, of
which I like best No. 201, a small early unk