, and thus was younger than Titian and
Tintoretto, with whom he was eternally to rank, who were born
respectively in 1477 or 1487 and 1518. At the age of twenty-seven,
Veronese went to Venice, and there he remained, with brief absences, for
the rest of his life, full of work and honour. His first success came
when he competed for the decoration of the ceiling of S. Mark's library
and won. In 1560 he visited Rome in the Ambassador's service; in 1565 he
married a Veronese woman. He died in 1588, leaving two painter sons.
Vasari, who preferred Tuscans, merely mentions him.

More than any other painter, except possibly Velasquez, Veronese strikes
the observer as an aristocrat. Everything that he did had a certain
aloofness and distinction. In drawing, no Venetian was his superior, not
even Tintoretto; and his colour, peculiarly his own, is characterized by
a certain aureous splendour, as though he mixed gold with all his
paints. Tintoretto and he, though latterly, in Titian's very old age,
rivals, were close friends.

Veronese is the glory of this church, for it possesses not only his
ashes but some fine works. It is a pity that the light is not good. The
choir altar-piece is his and his also are the pictures of the martyrdom
of S. Sebastian, S. Mark, and S. Marcellinus. They are vigorous and
typical, but tell their stories none too well. Veronese painted also the
ceiling, the organ, and other altar-pieces, and a bust of him is here to
show what manner of man he was.

Close to the door, on the left as you leave, is a little Titian which
might be very fine after cleaning.

There are two ways of returning from S. Sebastiano to, say, the iron
bridge of the Accademia. One is direct, the other indirect. Let us take
the indirect one first.

[Illustration: THE PALAZZO PESARO (ORFEI), CAMPO S. BENEDETTO]

Leaving the church, you cross the bridge opposite its door and turn to
the left beside the canal. At the far corner you turn into the
fondamenta of the Rio di S. Margherita, which is a beautiful canal with
a solitary cypress that few artists who come to Venice can resist.
Keeping on the right side of the Rio di S. Margherita we come quickly
to the campo of the Carmine, where another church awaits us.

S. Maria del Carmine is not beautiful, and such pictures as it possesses
are only dimly visible--a "Circumcision" by Tintoretto, a Cima which
looks as though it might be rather good, and four Giorgionesque scenes
by Schia