in England and painted here. The National Gallery
has views of Eton College and of Ranelagh seen through his Venetian
eyes. In Venice Tiepolo often added the figures for him.

Francesco Guardi was born in Venice in 1712 and died there in 1793, and
all his life he was translating the sparkling charm of his watery city
into paint. His master was Canaletto, whom he surpassed in charm but
never equalled in foot-rule accuracy or in that gravity which makes a
really fine picture by the older man so distinguished a thing. Very
little is known of Guardi's life. That he married is certain, and he had
a daughter who eloped with an Irishman. We are told also that he was
very indolent, and late in life came upon such evil days that he
established himself at a corner of the Piazza, where Rosen's book-shop
now is, and sold sketches to whomever would buy for whatever they would
fetch; which is only one remove from a London screever. Guardi's picture
of S. Giorgio Maggiore in the Accademia, No. 707, shows us that the
earlier campanile, which fell in 1774, was higher and slenderer than the
present one.

We now come to Room XVII, which has a number of small interesting works,
some by great masters. Mantegna is here with a S. George, which I
reproduce on the opposite page. Very beautiful it is, both in feeling
and colour. It is painted on wood and the dragon is extremely dead. Here
too is Piero della Francesca, that rare spirit, but his picture, No. 47,
has almost perished. The mild Basaiti and milder Catena are here; a
pretty little Caravaggio; two good Cimas, No. 611, sweet and
translucent, and No. 592, a Tobias; and excellent examples of both
Alvise and Bartolommeo Vivarini, those pioneer brothers, a blue and
green dress of the Virgin in No. 615 by Bartolommeo being exquisite.
Here too is a Cosimo Tura, No. 628, poor in colour but fine in the
drawing of the baby Christ; and a rich unknown Lombardian version of
Christ washing His disciples' feet, No. 599, which is not strong in
psychology but has noticeable quality.

The most purely charming work in the room is a Boccaccio Boccaccini, No.
600, full of sweetness and pretty thoughts. The Madonna is surrounded by
saints, the figure in the centre having the true Boccaccini face. The
whole picture is a delight, whether as a group of nice holy people, a
landscape, or a fantasy of embroidery. The condition of the picture is
perfect too. The flight into Egypt, in two phases, goes on in the