s they merely fraternize; sometimes they masquerade
as the Three Kings or Wise Men from the East; but always it is into the
New Testament that, with the aid of the brush of genius, they force
their way.

Modesty can never have been a Venetian characteristic; nor is it now,
when Venice is only a museum and show place. All the Venetians--the men,
that is,--whom one sees in the Piazza have an air of profound
self-satisfaction. And this palace of the Doges is no training-place for
humility; for if its walls do not bear witness, glorious and chromatic,
to the greatness of a Doge, it is merely because the greatness of the
Republic requires the space. In this room, for example, we find Tiepolo
allegorizing Venice as the conqueror of the sea.

And now for the jewel of art in the Doges' Palace. It is in the room
opposite the door by which we entered--the ante-room of the Sala del
Collegio--and it faces us, on the left as we enter: the "Bacchus and
Ariadne" of Tintoretto. We have all seen the "Bacchus and Ariadne" of
Titian in our National Gallery, that superb, burning, synchronized
epitome of the whole legend. Tintoretto has chosen one incident only;
Love bringing Bacchus to the arms of Ariadne and at the same moment
placing on his head a starry coronal. Even here the eternal pride of
Venice comes in, for, made local, it has been construed as Love, or say
Destiny, completing the nuptials of the Adriatic (Bacchus) with Venice
(Ariadne), and conferring on Venice the crown of supremacy. But that
matters nothing. What matters is that the picture is at once
Tintoretto's simplest work and his most lovely. One can do nothing but
enjoy it in a kind of stupor of satisfaction, so soothing and perfect is
it. His "Crucifixion," which we shall see at the Scuola of S. Rocco,
must ever be this giant painter's most tremendous achievement; but the
picture before us must equally remain his culminating effort in serene,
absolute beauty. Three other mythological paintings, companions of the
"Bacchus," are here too, of which I like best the "Minerva" and the
"Mercury"; but they are far from having the quality of that other. I
have an idea that "The Origin of the Milky Way," in the National
Gallery, was painted as a ceiling piece to go with these four, but I
have no data for the theory, beyond its similarity in size and scheme.
The other great picture in this room is Paul Veronese's sumptuous "Rape
of Europa."

[Illustration: BACCHUS AND ARIADNE