"I will be as brief as possible and from his own lips as to the manner of receive it from me, as I received it from his death, but of the last incident of his your wife, that every word I utter is true." dream-life, and of my providentially savI told him the story of Mildred, who ing him from the commission of an awful until now he had believed to be his daughter. Perceiving that he was ill, I shortened it as much as possible. Once or twice I paused in my recital, and asked him if he was in pain.

As I prepare to end my task I see in my mind's eye the form of one who, in every act of her life, in every gentle word that falls from her lips, has sanctified for It was popularly supposed that he died me the name of woman. Not only in idea, from heart disease. There were in him but in deed. "God bless Mrs. Carew!" no indications of having died from other is said by many out of her hearing, and if than natural causes. What I knew I kept to live a good, pure life will earn God's to myself. Not alone what I gathered | blessing she has earned it, and it is hers.

From The National Review.

DONATELLO, AND THE UNVEILING OF
THE FACADE OF THE DUOMO AT FLOR-

ENCE.

A SKETCH.

Yet there are lives that, 'mid the trampling throng,
With their prime beauty bloom at evensong;
Souls that with no confusing flutter rise,
Spread the wings once, and sail in Paradise;
Hearts for whom God has judged it best to know,
Only by hearsay, sin, and waste, and woe;
Bright to come hither, and to travel hence
Bright as they came, and wise in innocence.

The Renewal of Youth and Other Poems. By F.

MYERS.

Nor

|far centuries back, to say to those stately
walls, where yet linger the echoes of the
eloquent voice, "Ye shall be built."
had that impression time to fade from his
mind before it was renewed by another
influence, to which, since the time of
Giotto, no Florentine has been insensible
-the influence of art. The words of the
preacher had fallen upon the ear; the les-
son for the eye was no less striking, when,
a few weeks subsequently, the veil fell
from the façade of the Duomo and re-
vealed it in all its majestic beauty, com-
pleted after a lapse of five centuries, a
first-fruit of free Italy, a harbinger of the
much-desired harmony between Church
and State which will one day complete the
perfection of the united kingdom.

SUCH a life was that of Donatello, and it is an occasion like the unveiling of the façade of the Duomo at Florence which arrests the "trampling throng " of the nineteenth century midway in the treadmill of life, and suggests thoughts other Among the representative characters than those practical considerations which chosen out of Florentine history as will encroach in undue proportion upon worthy to find a place in the glorious the economy of human existence; just as façade, because of their various witness the Duomo itself, rising in silent majesty to the truth of Christianity, the most out of the heart of a city alive with a thou- prominent position is assigned to Donasand past memories, astir with ever-pres-tello, and justly, for he was eminently the ent life, forces an involuntary homage from all who come for the first time within its precincts.

It would not, perhaps, be very easy to analyze the cause of the emotion. The student of literature, having learnt from a great master a lesson in the sublime, might trace it to an overwhelming sense of the power and strength necessary to conceive and fulfil a design of so much grandeur and such vast dimensions; the student of art might ascribe the sense of awe to a perception of a grand whole, produced by excellence in every part. But there is yet something more; something which has the power to touch those who are neither lovers of literature nor students of art, and which, without appealing to the understanding, can awaken a responsive chord in the heart of the most ignorant contadino when he looks up with fond pride at the Santa Maria del Fiore, that great landmark in the horizon from his home, nestled in some nook of the surrounding hills. He cannot explain it, but it has very recently been explained for him, within the walls of the great cathedral, if he made one of the seven thousand who, during the past Lent, have hung upon the words of Padre Agostino da Montefeltro. From the lips of that saintly preacher he will have learnt that the explanation lies in that one word religion, which he has been exhorted to inscribe on his laborer's banner as the climax of labor and union; and that it is that same word which had power, in the

sculptor of Christianity. It was in Christian art that he attained his celebrity, and even if he had not contributed some of his finest work to the adornment of the Duomo itself, there would, on that ground alone, have been a very marked fitness in a commemoration which combined the celebration of his fifth centenary with the unveiling of the façade.

There is no positive record of the date of Donatello's birth, though it is indicated by himself in his returns for the tax-collectors, but the year 1386 is now generally accepted to be the correct date. He was the son of Niccolò di Betto Bardi, a woolcomber in Florence, and, as such, a member of L'Arte della Lana, one of the seven major arts of Florence. But, whereas his father had taken an active and vehement share in the Florentine factions, Donatello held aloof from them, preferring to remain in the untroubled atmosphere of art, where, with nothing to distract his mind from the continued study of her sublime lessons, he was able to reach an eminence hitherto unattained by predecessor or contemporary.

History affords but scant details of his early years, except that he was brought up from childhood in the Casa Martelli, where he made himself beloved by his amiable qualities, his docility, industry, and love of study. The rudiments of art he is supposed to have learnt from Lorenzo di Bicci, one of the most celebrated among the painters and artists of the fourteenth century.

a note.

In the earliest edition of his well-known | in modelling the famous gates, and Brunel work, Vasari indulged in a preamble to the lesco gave him a lesson in refinement of life of Donatello, afterwards eliminated execution, which has come down to posby the author himself, either because too terity in the famous anecdote of the high-flown in style, or because he thought "Crocifisso delle Uova." Donatello had it militated against the opinions he had been for a long time at work upon a crupreviously expressed of those sculptors cifix (it is still to be seen in the Cappella who had preceded Donatello in art. This dei Bardi in Santa Croce); he had be...preamble, however, reappears in the last stowed upon it the utmost care and pains edition of Vasari,* and forms so lively an in the wish to bring it as near perfection introduction to the subject, that it is to as possible, and it can easily be imagined be regretted that it cannot be reinserted how great was his disappointment when, in the text, instead of being relegated to on showing it to Brunellesco, he was told that the proportions of the figure upon the cross were those of an ordinary peasant, and could not worthily represent the Saviour. Donatello was stung to the quick, yet he replied with gentleness: "If it were as easy to do as to criticise, you would be ready to admit that my figure is the figure of the Christ, and not that of the peasant. Still, do you, in your turn, take a piece of wood, and see if you can make a better one." Some months afterwards Brunellesco invited Donatello to breakfast, and having filled his workman's apron with eggs and fruit and other provisions, desired him to make his way to the studio; he (Brunellesco) would follow him shortly. Donatello, on entering the studio, looked up and saw in front of him a crucifix of such exceedingly beautiful workmanship that he threw up his hands in an ecstasy of astonishment, forgetting the eggs and other provisions in his apron, which rolled out upon the ground. Brunellesco, who had followed close upon the steps of Donatello, perceived with infinite satisfaction the success of his little stratagem; but Donatello, with the humility which was the most striking trait of his character, frankly confessed: "To you it is given to represent the form of Jesus Christ. I can only represent that of a peasant."

The sculptors [Vasari writes] whom we have hitherto described, belonged to the ancient, though by no means the antique, school of art; dismayed by the many difficulties of art, they never could produce anything but round, shapeless, blunt forms, alike in bronze or marble. Their own intellects being blunt and stupid, they must needs produce their resemblance in the forms they modelled. Thus their works were devoid of vigor or animation, it being utterly impossible to give a prop erty not inherent in the donor. This being the case, nature, justly indignant at seeing herself so grossly caricatured, determined to send into the world a sculptor who could infuse grace and proportion into her luckless marbles and hardly-used bronze treasures, which, as a provident mother, were dear to her as the offspring of long diligence and care. From this quaint description of the early efforts of the medieval sculptors, it is evident that, by the side of Donatello, they can only be looked upon in the light of stone-carvers, and that when their work is compared with his it falls far short of any claim to hold a place in the divine art of sculpture.

Donatello turned from the conventional forms they had been content to reproduce the stiff, emaciated angels of the fifteenth century, with their impassive expression of countenance, no matter whether the emotion intended to be represented was one of joy or sorrow and, studying directly from nature, he made his cherubs robust and smiling, like the children he took for his models. Thus he contrived to imbue his works with a life and movement hitherto unknown to sculpture, and to create an era in that special branch of art, at the same time that Ghiberti was modelling the gates fit to be the gates of paradise, and Brunellesco planning the cupola of the Duomo. Both these artists were impressed with the promising talent of the young sculptor. Ghiberti employed his "prentice hand "

* Vasari, Opere, vol. ii., Ed. Milanesi, p. 395, note.

The anecdote, perhaps already too notorious, is cited because it not only illustrates the character of Donatello, but the stages by which he attained to the perfection of his art. His direct study from nature, without the chastening influence derived from the knowledge of the antique, produced the result, happily for art, justly censured by Brunellesco. But the influence of nature, when afterwards balanced by careful study of the antique in Rome, under the guidance of the same great master, resulted in that peculiar delicacy of form and modelling, which, added to his previous vigor and freedom, gave to his work an individual character and | charm as yet unrivalled. The frank criti

cism of Brunellesco in no way altered the | by astonishing than by any other word, relationship between the brother artists, because it conveys the effect produced by except perhaps in drawing still closer the the grandeur and power of his manner; bonds that united them, and they worked but when applied to the Last Judgment of together in Rome with the utmost dili- Michael Angelo, we can readily undergence; the one in his research after archi- stand how both as to subject and manner tectural models, the other in close obser- the word may be taken in its full and litvation of the classical statues, bringing eral significance, when we find it in the back to Florence the power to produce well-known line, works of art which now, after the lapse of five hundred years, make the centre of attraction for the Florentines in the midst of their triumphant festivities.

Di Michel Angelo la terribil via.

Yet, however sublime in conception, and powerful in treatment, the works of The sculpture of the Annunciation, for Buonarotti must yield to Donatello in a the tomb of the Cavalcanti in Santa Croce, cannot be produced by study or art, but certain simple spontaneous dignity, which was the work by which Donatello first gained his reputation in Florence. No which, as the unbidden impulse of the sooner was it completed than his services soul, leaves its type forever in the work. were in immediate request for the Duo- Donatello. It was executed for the church Such a work is the statue of S. Giorgio by mo, and, during the years 1408-12, he was of Or. San Michele, for the company busily engaged, with other artists, in pre- of the Corazzai e Spadai (armorers), one paring statues of saints and prophets for of the twenty-one minor arts of Florence the old façade. Some of these have per- represented in the Corteggio Storico on ished, others were moved inside whem the occasion of the recent festivities. the façade was destroyed; and among The company were fortunate in their these were a very powerful statue of choice of an artist, when, in 1418, they St. John the Evangelist, another of a selected Donatello to represent for all prophet, and another of Joshua, all effigies time their patron saint. The conscious

of citizens of the time, and representations of unmistakable truth. To this period also belongs the famous statue of King David, detta Zuccone, executed for one of the niches of the Campanile, where it still remains, which, by its very designation, bears witness to the uncompromising truth displayed by the sculptor in his study from nature; the bald head (hence the title of Zuccone) and the large forehead being an exact reproduction of his model, a certain Giovanni di Barduccio Chierichini, so true to life that it is said the last stroke of the chisel was accompanied with the passionate exclamation of Parla! from its creative genius.

The same consciousness of power and successful achievement made Michael Angelo, in the following century, demand, in a frenzy of enthusiasm, of his stone Moses, the reason of his silence. There is, indeed, a close analogy between the works of the two great masters, alike in the boldness of their conception and their complete mastery over their art; and the Italians are wont to say that either the spirit of Donatello inspired the works of Buonarotti, or the spirit of Buonarotti worked by anticipation in Donatello. Again, it is worthy of notice, that upon both artists was conferred, by their admiring contemporaries, the epithet of terribile. As applied to the works of Donatello the word would be more aptly rendered

soldier, the fearless penetration of his power, the martial bearing of the young gaze, aptly represent the ideal Christian knight at the period of the flower of true chivalry, before it was overlaid by sentidauntless courage more adequately reprement and romance. Never was firm and sented, and the stone lips need not move

to utter the sentiment,

Crains Dieu... et n'aie point d'autre crainte,

etc.

No one can look at the San Giorgio without being convinced that such a conception could alone proceed from a mind of such singleness of motive, such utter forgetfulness of self, as was that of Donatello. Had there been no record of his character, it might have been read in the countenance of that statue, for there is no mistaking the direct purpose concentrated there, not counteracted by any sordid consideration, or unworthy fears. The San Giorgio may on this account be looked upon as a typical work, besides being one of the finest productions of Donatello's genius. It caused Benvenuto Cellini to describe him as the greatest sculptor that ever existed, and a whole book was written in praise of this one work.

Contemporaneously with his work for Or. San Michele, Donatello executed in rapid succession statues for the niches of the Campanile, to correspond with the

Trescando alzato l'umile Salmista;
E più e men che Rè era in quel caso.

It would almost seem as if the previous be taken as a prophecy of the beauty of passage descriptive of the sculpture might the workmanship of Donatello :

Esser di marmo candido ed adorno
D'intagli tai, che non pur Policleto
Ma la natura li avrebbe a scorno.

Purg. x. 30.

Zuccone already alluded to. All were, like the Zuccone, studies from life. The statue of St. John the Baptist reproduced the effigy of Francesco Soderini; the third, called either Jeremiah or Solomon, because it was inscribed with both names, the one appearing upon the roll in his hand, the other upon the plinth, is also known to have been taken from life. The of Abraham and Isaac, also group occupying a niche of the Campanile, was a joint work executed by Donatello and Michelozzo and Donatello were both Nanni del Bianco. But it is not the in-protected and encouraged by Cosimo dei tention of this essay to attempt anything | Medici. They worked jointly for him in like a complete c.talogue of the works of erecting the tomb of Pope John XXIII. Donatello. That task has been ade- in the Battisterio, and afterwards in San quately performed elsewhere, by any one of the numerous catalogues and guides called forth by the occasion in Florence, and to reproduce them would be at once tedious and unsatisfactory; nor could the subject be compressed into so small a space, for Donatello was one of the most prolific of all the Italian artists, because of the extraordinary rapidity of his work. This was the result of a conception fully matured before he attempted to execute it; when once the idea was clearly defined in his mind, it was carried into effect without any hesitation, doubt, or delay. Vasari, commenting on this, observes: "Donato was resolute and rapid, his facile hand rapidly accomplished the design he had in view, and he was always better than his word."

During the latter half of Donatello's career, dating from the year 1425, he entered into partnership with the great architect Michelozzo, who had previously often been associated with him in the commissions which he received. Donatello, in his return to the State, describes him as his compagno d'arte, affirming that "they exercised their art together, designing, modelling, and executing statues and bas-reliefs."

Together they worked at the famous marble pulpit at Prato, where the influence of Michelozzo appears in the perfect elegance of the architectural proportions, and Donatello surpasses himself in his favorite subject, the representation of childhood dancing in all its freshness and gaiety.

Some critics have objected to the incongruity of a subject so frivolous as the dance being represented upon a pulpit, but this can only appear a hypercriticism to those who remember the concluding exhortations of the Psalms, to say nothing of their author, described by Dante in the Purgatorio:

Lorenzo. For Donatello Cosimo Pater Patriæ had a great predilection, and to the influence of his patronage is due the famous statue of the youthful David with the head of Goliath at his feet, one of the greatest among the masterpieces of Donatello. The statue of his patron is also extant, where the furrows of thought upon the countenance, and the lines of age, tell the tale of its truth to life, while the drapery worthy of a Roman statue shows the result of the artist's careful and thorough study of the antique.

To the same patronage we owe the group of Judith and Holophernes, afterwards, by an irony of fate, employed by the fickle Florentines as a menace to the family for whom it had been executed. When the Medici were driven out of Florence in 1495 it was removed out of the Loggia dei Lanzi, and placed near the gate of the Palazzo Vecchio with the inscription Exemplum salutis publicæ cives posuere. But when the Medici returned to power it was again relegated to the loggia, and the group of Hercules and Cacus was substituted by way of an instructive lesson to the people.

By the direction of Cosimo, Donatello was next instructed to adorn the Church of San Lorenzo; rebuilt by Giovanni Averardo dei Medici in 1417, it has never since been dissociated from their name, while it has become, under their patronage, a very treasure-house of works of art to which each century has made some contribution; nor must we forget the last, the sepulchral monument of which the first stone was laid by the Marchese Torrigiani on the 11th of last May, forming one of the striking features of the festivities. It was, indeed, the right spot to choose for his last resting-place, for it is the scene of some of his best and most conscientious work. Eager to repay the benefits heaped upon him by his patron, it was a labor of