GIOTTO
AND HIS WORKS IN PADUA.
By JOHN RUSKIN.
Parts I., II. and III.
PRINTED FOR THE ARUNDEL SOCIETY.
GIOTTO
AND HIS WORKS IN PADUA.
LONDON :
PRINTED BY LEVEY, ROBSON, AND FRANKLYN,
GREAT NEW STREET AND FETTER LANE.
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GIOTTO
AND HIS WORKS IN PADUA
BEING
An Explanatory Notice of the Series of Woodcuts
(Bxtmttl} for tfje aruntiel ^ocietp
After the Frefcoes in the Arena Chapel.
By JOHN RUSKIN.
PRINTED FOR THE ARUNDEL SOCIETY.
■ 1854.
117748
f c c c c
c c
sr the property of ;,(«
!■' PUBLIC Llft^. !!V
ADVERTISEMENT.
The following notice of Giotto has not been drawn up with any
idea of attempting a hiftory of his life. That hiftory could only
be written after a careful fearch through the libraries of Italy
for all documents relating to the years during which he worked.
I have no time for fuch fearch, or even for the examination of
well-known and publifhed materials ; and have therefore merely
collededj from the fources neareft at hand, fuch information as
appeared abfolutely necefTary to render the feries of Plates now
publifhed by the Arundel Society intelligible and interefting to
thofe among its Members who have not devoted much time to
the examination of mediaeval works. I have prefixed a few re-
marks on the relation of the art of Giotto to former and fub-
fequent efforts ; which I hope may be ufeful in preventing the
general reader from either looking for what the painter never
intended to give, or mifTmg the points to which his endeavours
were really directed.
J. R.
f^k p
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1
GIOTTO
AND HIS WORKS IN PADUA.
OWARDS the clofe of the thirteenth century,
Enrico Scrovigno, a noble Paduan, purchafed,
in his native city, the remains of the Roman Am-
phitheatre or Arena from the family of the Delefmanini,
to whom thofe remains had been granted by the Emperor
Henry III. of Germany in 1090. For the power of
making this purchafe, Scrovigno was in all probability
indebted to his father, Reginald, who, for his avarice,
is placed by Dante in the feventh circle of the Inferno,
and regarded apparently as the chief of the ufurers there,
lince he is the only one who addreffes Dante.* The fon.
* " Noting the vifages of fome who lay
" Beneath the pelting of that dolorous lire,
" One of them all I knew not; but perceived
" That pendent from his neck each bore a pouch,
" With colours and with emblems various marked,
" On which it feemed as if their eye did feed.
" And when amongft them looking round I came,
" A yellow purfe I faw, with azure wrought,
" That wore a lion's countenance and port.
8 Giotto a?7d his Works i?i Padua.
having polTefTed himfelf of the Roman ruin, or of the fite
which it had occupied, built himfelf a fortified palace
upon the ground, and a chapel dedicated to the Annunciate
Virgin.
" Then, ilill my fight purfuing its career,
" Another I beheld, than blood more red,
" A goofc difplay of whiter wing than curd.
" And one who bore a fat and azure /wine
" Figured on his white fcrip, addreffed me thus :
" What doll thou in this deep ? Go now and know,
" Since yet thou liveft, that my neighbour here,
" Vitaliano, on my left fliall fit.
" A Paduan with thefe Florentines am I.
" Ofttimes they thunder in mine ears, exclaiming,
" Oh ! hafte that noble knight, he who the pouch
" With the three goats will bring. This faid, he writhed
" The mouth, and lolled the tongue out, like an ox
" That licks his noftrils," Canto xvii.
This pafTage of Gary's Dante is not quite fo clear as that tranflator's work ufually
is. " One of them all I knew not" is an awkward periphrafis for " I knew
none of them." Dante's indignant expreffion of the effect of avarice in withering
away dillinftions of character, and the prophecy of Scrovigno, that his neighbour
Vitaliano, then living, fhould foon be with him, to fit on his left hand, is rendered a
little obfcure by the tranfpofition of the word " here." Gary has alfo been afraid
of the exceffive homelinefs of Dante's imagery; "whiter wing than curd" being
in the original " whiter than butter." The attachment of the purfe to the neck, as
a badge of fhame, in the Inferno, is found before Dante's time; as, for inftance, in the
windows of Bourges cathedral (fee Plate iii. of MM, Martin and Gainer's beautiful
work). And the building of the Arena Ghapel by the fon, as a kind of atonement
for the avarice of the father, is very charaftcriftic of the period, in which the ufe of
money for the building of churches was confidered jull as meritorious as its unjult
accumulation was criminal. I have fcen, in a MS. Ghurch-fervice of the thir-
teenth century, an illumination reprefenting Ghurch-Gonfccration, ilkillrating the
words, " Fundata eft domus Domini fupra vcrticem montium," furrounded, for the
purpofe of contrail, by a grotcfquc, confiding of a pifture of a mifer's death-bed, a
demon drawing his foul out of his mouth, while his attendants are fcarching in his
chefts for his treafurcs.
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 9
This chapel, built in or about the year 1303,* appears
to have been intended to replace one which had long ex-
ited on the fpot; and in which, from the year 1278, an
annual feftival had been held on Lady-day, in which the
Annunciation was reprefented in the manner of our Englifli
myfteries (and under the fame title : " una facra rappre-
fentazione di quel mifterd')^ with dialogue, and music both
vocal and inftrumental. Scrovegno's purchafe of the ground
could not be allowed to interfere with the national cuftom;
but he is reported by fome writers to have rebuilt the cha-
pel with greater coftlinefs, in order, as far as poffible, to
efface the memory of his father's unhappy life. But Fe-
derici, in his hiftory of the Cavalieri Godenti, fuppofes
that Scrovegno was a member of that body, and was af-
filed by them in decorating the new ediiice. The order
of Cavalieri Godenti was inftituted in the beginning of the
thirteenth century, to defend the " exiftence," as Selvatico
ftates it, but more accurately the dignity, of the Virgin, againil:
the various heretics by whom it was beginning to be af-
failed. Her knights were first called Cavaliers of St. Mary ;
but foon increafed in power and riches to fuch a degree,
that, from their general habits of life, they received the
nickname of the " Merry Brothers." Federici gives for-
cible reafons for his opinion that the Arena Chapel was em-
ployed in the ceremonies of their order ; and Lord Lindfay
obferves, that the fulnefs with which the hiftory of the
Virgin is recounted on its walls, adds to the plaufibility
of his fuppofition.
* For thefe hiftorical details I am chiefly indebted to the very careful treatife of
Selvatico, Sulla CappeWma degli Scrovegni neW Arena di Padova. Padua, 1836.
B
1 o Giotto a7id his Worh i7i Padua,
Enrico Scrovegno was, however, towards the clofe of
his Hfe, driven into exile, and died at Venice in 1320. But
he was buried in the chapel he had built; and has one fmall
monument in the facrifty, as the founder of the building,
in which he is reprefented under a Gothic niche, flanding,
with his hands clafped and his eyes raifed ; while behind
the altar is his tomb, on which, as ufual at the period, is
a recumbent ftatue of him. The chapel itfelf may not
unwarrantably be confidered as one of the firft efforts of
Popery in refiftance of the Reformation : for the Reforma-
tion, though not victorious till the fixteenth, began in reality
in the thirteenth century ; and the remonftrances of fuch
bifhops as our own GrofTtefte, the martyrdoms of the
Albigenfes in the Dominican crufades, and the murmurs
of thofe " heretics" againft whofe afperiions of the majefty
of the Virgin this chivalrous order of the Cavalieri Go-
denti was inftituted, were as truly the figns of the approach
of a new era in religion, as the opponent work of Giotto
on the walls of the Arena was a lign of the approach of a
new era in art.
The chapel having been founded, as ftated above, in
1303, Giotto appears to have been fummoned to decorate
its interior walls about the year 1306, — fummoned, as
being at that time the acknowledged mafter of painting in
Italy. By what fteps he had rifen to this unqueftioned
eminence it is difficult to trace ; for the records of his life,
Arictly examined, and freed from the verbiage and conjec-
ture of artiflical hiftory, nearly reduce themfelves to a lift
of the cities of Italy where he painted, and to a few anec-
dotes, of little meaning in themfelves, and doubly pointlefs
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 1 1
in the fadl of moft of them being inheritances of the whole
race of painters, and related fuccelfively of all in whofe bio-
graphies the public have deigned to take an intereft. There
is even queftion as to the date of his birth; Vafari ftating
him to have been born in 1276, while Baldinucci, on the
internal evidence derived from Vafari's own narrative,
throws the date back ten years.* I believe, however, that
Vafari is moft probably accurate in his iirft main ftate-
ment ; and that his errors, always numerous, are in the
subfequent and minor particulars. It is at leaft undoubted
truth that Giotto was born, and paffed the years of child-
hood, at Vefpignano, about fourteen miles north of Flo-
rence, on the road to Bologna. Few travellers can for-
get the peculiar landfcape of that diflrict of the Apennine.
As they afcend the hill which rifes from Florence to the
lowefl break in the ridge of Fiefole, they pafs continually
beneath the walls of villas bright in perfect luxury, and
belide cyprefs-hedges, enclofmg fair terraced gardens, where
the mafles of oleander and magnolia, motionlefs as leaves
in a picture, inlay alternately upon the blue sky their
branching lightnefs of pale rofe-colour, and deep green
breadth of fliade, ftudded with balls of budding filver,
and {howing at intervals through their framework of rich
leaf and rubied flower, the far-away bends of the Arno
beneath its flopes of olive, and the purple peaks of the
Carrara mountains, tolling themfelves againft the weflern
diftance, where the ftreaks of motionlefs clouds burn above
the Pifan fea. The traveller paiTes the Fiesolan ridge, and
all is changed. The country is on a fudden lonely. Here
* Lord Lindfay, Chriftian Art, vol. ii. p. i66.
I 2 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
and there indeed are feen the fcattered houfes of a farm
grouped gracefully upon the hill-fides, — here and there a
fragment of tower upon a diftant rock ; but neither gar-
dens, nor flowers, nor glittering palace-walls, only a grey
extent of mountain-ground, tufted irregularly with ilex and
olive : a fcene not fublime, for its forms are fubdued and
low ; not defolate, for its valleys are full of fown fields and
tended paftures ; not rich nor lovely, but funburnt and
forrowful ; becoming wilder every inftant as the road winds
into its recelfes, afcending still, until the higher woods,
now partly oak and partly pine, drooping back from the
central crefl of the Apennine, leave a paftoral wildernefs
of fcathed rock and arid grafs, withered away here by froft,
and there by ftrange lambent tongues of earth- fed fire.*
Giotto pafled the firft ten years of his life, a fhepherd-boy,
among thefe hills ; was found by Cimabue, near his native
village, drawing one of his flieep upon a fmooth ftone ;
was yielded up by his father, ** a fimple perfon, a labourer
of the earth," to the guardianlliip of the painter, who, by
his own work, had already made the ftreets of Florence
ring with joy ; attended him to Florence, and became his
difciple.
We may fancy the glance of the boy, when he and
Cimabue flood fide by fide on the ridge of Fiefole, and
for the firfi: time he faw the flowering thickets of the Val
d'Arno; and deep beneath, the innumerable towers of the
City of the Lily, the depths of his own heart yet hiding
* At Pietra Mala. The flames rife two or three feet above the llony ground
out ot which they Tpring, white and fierce enough to be vifible in the intenfe rays
even of the morning fun.
Giotto and his Works in Padua,
13
the faireft of them all. Another ten years paiTed over him,
and he was chofen from among the painters of Italy to
decorate the Vatican.
The account given us by Vafari of the mode of his
competition on this occalion, is one of the few anecdotes
of him which feem to be authentic (efpecially as having
given rife to an Italian proverb), and it has alfo great point
and value. I tranflate Vafari's words literally.
" This work (his paintings in the Campo Santo of
Pifa) acquired for him, both in the city and externally,
fo much fame, that the Pope Benedict IX. fent a certain
one of his courtiers into Tufcany, to fee what fort of a
man Giotto was, and what was the quality of his works,
he (the pope) intending to have fome paintings executed
in St. Peter's ; which courtier, coming to fee Giotto,
and hearing that there were other mafters in Florence
who excelled in painting and in mofaic, fpoke, in Siena,
to many mafters ; then, having received drawings from
them, he came to Florence; and having gone one morn-
ing into Giotto's fhop as he was at work, explained the
pope's mind to him, and in what way he wilhed to
avail himfelf of his powers, and finally requefted from
him a little piece of drawing to fend to his Holinefs.
Giotto, who was moft courteous, took a leaf (of vellum?),
and upon this, with a brufli dipped in red, fixing his
arm to his fide, to make it as the limb of a pair of com-
pafi^es, and turning his hand, made a circle fo perfect in
meafure and outline, that it was a wonder to fee : which
having done, he faid to the courtier, with a fmile, * There
is the drawing.' He, thinking himfelf mocked, faid.
1 4 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
" * Shall I have no other drawing than this?' * This is
" enough, and too much,' anfwered Giotto ; * fend it with
" the others: you will fee if it will be underftood.' The
** ambaffador, feeing that he could not get any thing elfe,
" took his leave with fmall fatisfa(ftion, doubting whether
** he had not been made a jefl of. However, when he
** fent to the pope the other drawings, and the names of
" thofe who had made them, he fent alfo that of Giotto,
" relating the way in which he had held himfelf in draw-
" ing his circle, without moving his arm, and without
" compalTes. Whence the pope, and many intelligent
** courtiers, knew how much Giotto overpafled in excel-
" lence all the other painters of his time. Afterwards,
" the thing becoming known, the proverb arofe from it :
*' * Thou art rounder than the O of Giotto;' which it is
** ftill in cuftom to fay to men of the groifer clay; for the
** proverb is pretty, not only on account of the accident of
** its origin, but becaufe it has a double meaning, * round'
" being^taken in Tufcany to exprefs not only circular form,
" but flownefs and groffnefs of wit."
Such is the account of Vafari, which, at the firft read-
ing, might be gravely called into queftion, feeing that the
paintings at Pifa, to which he afcribes the fudden extent of
Giotto's reputation, have been proved to be the work of
Francefco da Volterra;* and fince, moreover, Vafari has even
miftaken the name of the pope, and written Boniface IX.
for Boniface VIII. But the ftory itfelf mufl, I think, be
true ; and, rightly underftood, it is fingularly interefting.
* At leaft Lord Lindfay fcems to confidcr the evidence coUcfted by Forftcr on
this fuhjcct conclufive. Chrijiidti Art, v(j]. ii. p. i68.
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 1 5
I fay, rightly underftood ; for Lord Lindfay fuppofes the
circle to have been mechanically drawn by turning the
fheet of vellum under the hand, as now conftantly done for
the fake of fpeed at fchools. But neither do Vafari's words
bear this conftruction, nor would the drawing fo made have
borne the flighteft teftimony to Giotto's power. Vafari
fays diftindly, " and turning his hand" (or, as I fhould
rather read it, " with a fweep of his hand"), not " turn-
ing the vellum ;" neither would a circle produced in io
mechanical a manner have borne diftind: witnefs to any
thing except the draughtfman's mechanical ingenuity ;
and Giotto had too much common fenfe, and too much
courtefy, to fend the pope a drawing which did not really
contain the evidence he required. Lord Lindfay has been
milled alfo by his own carelefs tranllation of " pennello
tinto di roflb" ("a brujh dipped in red,") by the word
" crayon." It is eafy to draw the mechanical circle with
a crayon, but by no means eafy with a brufh. I have not
the llightefl doubt that Giotto drew the circle as a painter
naturally would draw it; that is to fay, that he fet the vel-
lum upright on the wall or panel before him, and then,
fteadying his arm firmly againft his fide, drew the circular
line with one fweeping but firm revolution of his hand,
holding the brulli long. Such a feat as this is completely
pofiible to a well-difciplined painter's hand, but utterly
impoflible to any other ; and the circle fo drawn was the
mofi; convincing proof Giotto could give of his decifion
of eye and perfectnefs of practice.
Still, even when thus underftood, there is much in the
anecdote very curious. Here is a painter requefted by the
1 6 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
head of the Church to execute certain rehgious paintings,
and the only quaHfication for the tafk of which he deigns
to demonflrate his poiTeffion is executive fkill. Nothing is
faid, and nothing appears to be thought, of expreffion, or
invention, or devotional fentiment. Nothing is required
but firmnefs of hand. And here arifes the important quef-
tion : Did Giotto know that this was all that was looked
for by his religious patrons ? and is there occult fatire in
the example of his art which he fends them ? — or does
the founder of facred painting mean to tell us that he
holds his own power to confift merely in firmnefs of
hand, fecured by long prad:ice ? I cannot fatisfy myfelf on
this point : but yet it feems to me that we may fafely ga-
ther two conclufions from the words of the mafter, "It is
enough, and more than enough." The firft, that Giotto
had indeed a profound feeling of the value oi precijion in
all art ; and that we may ufe the full force of his authority
to prefs the truth, of which it is fo difficult to perfuade the
hafty workmen of modern times, that the difference be-
tween right and wrong lies within the breadth of a line ;
and that the moft perfect power and genius are (hown by
the accuracy which difdains error, and the faithfulnefs which
fears it.
And the fecond conclufion is, that whatever Giotto's
imaginative powers might be, he was proud to be a good
workman, and willing to be confidered by others only as
fuch. There might lurk, as has been fuggefted, fome
fatire in the meffage to the pope, and fome confcioufnefs
in his own mind of faculties higher than thofe of draughtf-
manlhip. I cannot tell how far thefe hidden feelings ex-
Giotto a7id his Works i72 Padua. 1 7
ifted ; but the more I fee of living artifts, and learn of
departed ones, the more I am convinced that the higheft
ftrength of genius is generally marked by ftrange uncon-
fcioufnefs of its own modes of operation, and often by no
fmall fcorn of the beft refults of its exertion. The inferior
mind intently watches its own procelfes, and dearly values
its own produce ; the mafter-mind is intent on other
things than itfelf, and cares little for the fruits of a toil
which it is apt to undertake rather as a law of life than
a means of immortality. It will ling at a feaft, or re-
touch an old play, or paint a dark wall, for its daily bread,
anxious only to be honeft in its fulfilment of its pledges or
its duty, and carelefs that future ages will rank it among
the gods.
I think it unneceiTary to repeat here any other of the
anecdotes commonly related of Giotto, as, feparately taken,
they are quite valuelefs. Yet much may be gathered from
their general tone. It is remarkable that they are, almoft
without exception, records of good-humoured jefts, in-
volving or illufhrating fome point of pradiical good fenfe :
and by comparing this general colour of the reputation of
Giotto with the ad:ual character of his defigns, there can-
not remain the fmalleft doubt that his mind was one of
the moft healthy, kind, and active, that ever informed a
human frame. His love of beauty was entirely free from
weaknefs ; his love of truth untinged by feverity ; his
induftry conftant, without impatience ; his workmanlliip
accurate, without formalifm ; his temper ferene, and yet
playful ; his imagination exhauftlefs, without extravagance;
and his faith firm, without fuperftition. I do not know,
c
I 8 Giotto a7id his Worls i7i Padua,
in the annals of art, fuch another example of happy, prac-
tical, unerring, and benevolent power.
I am certain that this is the eftimate of his characfler
which muft be arrived at by an attentive fludy of his
works, and of the few data which remain refpediing his
life ; but I fliall not here endeavour to give proof of its
truth, becaufe I believe the fubjed: has been exhauftively
treated by Rumohr and Forllier, whofe elTays on the works
and character of Giotto will doubtlefs be tranflated into
Englifh, as the intereft of the Englilli public in medi-
eval art increafes. I fliall therefore here only endeavour
briefly to fketch the relation which Giotto held to the
artifts who preceded and followed him, a relation ftill
imperfectly underftood ; and then, as briefly, to indicate
the general courfe of his labours in Italy, as far as may
be neceflary for underftanding the value of the feries in
the Arena Chapel.
The art of Europe, between the fifth and thirteenth
centuries, divides itfelf effentially into two great branches,
one fpringing from, the other grafted on, the old Roman
ftock. The firft is the Roman art itfelf, prolonged in a
languid and degraded condition, and becoming at lafl: a
mere formal fyftem, centered at the feat of Eaftern em-
pire, and thence generally called Byzantine. The other
is the barbarous and incipient art of the Gothic nations,
more or lefs coloured by Roman or Byzantine influence,
and gradually increafmg in life and power.
Generally fpeaking, the Byzantine art, although mani-
felting itfclFonly in perpetual repetitions, becoming every
day more cold and formal, yet preferved reminifcences of
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 19
delign originally noble, and traditions of execution origin-
ally perfect.
Generally fpeaking, the Gothic art, although becoming
every day more powerful, prefented the moft ludicrous ex-
periments of infantile imagination, and the most rude
efforts of untaught manipulation.
Hence, if any fuperior mind arofe in Byzantine art, it
had before it models which fuggefted or recorded a per-
fed:ion they did not themfelves poffefs; and the fuperiority
of the individual mind would probably be fliown in a more
fnicere and living treatment of the fubjedis ordained for re-
petition by the canons of the fchools.
In the art of the Goth, the choice of fubjed: was un-
limited, and the ftyle of defign fo remote from all perfec-
tion, as not always even to point out clearly the diredion
in which advance could be made. The llrongeft minds
which appear in that art are therefore generally manifefted
by redundance of imagination, and fudden refinement of
touch, whether of pencil or chifel, together with unex-
pe^^ed ftarts of efl^brt or flailies of knowledge in accidental
diredions, gradually forming various national ftyles.
Of thefe comparatively independent branches of art,
the greateft is, as far as I know, the French fculpture of
the thirteenth century. No words can give any idea of
the magnificent redundance of its imaginative power, or
of the perpetual beauty of even its fmalleft incidental
defigns. But this very richnefs of fculptural invention
prevented the French from cultivating their powers of
painting, except in illumination (of which art they were
the acknowledged mafhers), and in glafs-painting. Their
20 Giotto and his Works i?i Padua,
exquifite gift of fretting their ftone-work with inexhauft-
ible weahh of fculpture, prevented their feeHng the need
of iigure-defign on coloured furfaces.
The flyle of architecture prevalent in Italy at the fame
period, prefented, on the contrary, large blank furfaces,
which could only be rendered interefting by covering them
with mofaic or painting.
The Italians were not at the time capable of doing this
for themfelves, and mofaicifts were brought from Conftan-
tinople, who covered the churches of Italy with a fublime
monotony of Byzantine traditions. But the Gothic blood
was burning in the Italian veins ; and the Florentines and
Pifans could not reft content in the formalifm of the Eaft-
ern fplendour. The firft innovator was, I believe, Giunta
of Pifa, the fecond Cimabue, the third Giotto ; the laft
only being a man of power enough to effed: a complete
revolution in the artiftic principles of his time.
He, however, began, like his mafter Cimabue, with a
perfed: refped: for his Byzantine models ; and his paintings
for a long time confifted only of repetitions of the Byzan-
tine fubjects, foftened in treatment, enriched in number
of figures, and enlivened in gefture. Afterwards he in-
vented fubjed:s of his own. The manner and degree of the
changes which he at firfl: effected could only be properly
underftood by actual comparifon of his deligns with the
Byzantine originals ;* but in default of the means of fuch
* It might not, I think, be a woric unworthy of the Arundel Society, to colledl
and engrave in outline the complete fcries of thefe Byzantine originals of the fubjefts
of the Arena Chapel, in order to facilitate this comparifon. The Greek MSS. in the
Britifli Mufeum would, I think, be amply fufficicnt ; the Harleian MS. numbered
Giotto and his Works iii Padua, 2 1
a ccmparifon, it may be generally ftated that the innova-
tions of Giotto conlifted in the introduction. A, of gayer
or lighter colours ; B, of broader malTes ; and, C, of more
careful imitation of nature than exifled in the works of his
predecelTors.
A. Greater lightnefs of colour. This was partly in com-
pliance with a tendency which was beginning to manifeft
itfelf even before Giotto's time. Over the whole of north-
ern Europe, the colouring of the eleventh and early twelfth
centuries had been pale : in manufcripts, principally com-
pofed of pale red, green, and yellow, blue being fparingly
introduced (earlier ftill, in the eighth and ninth centuries,
the letters had often been coloured with black and yellow
only). Then, in the clofe of the twelfth and throughout
the thirteenth century, the great fyftem of perfecfl colour
was in ufe ; folemn and deep ; compofed ftrid:ly, in all
its leading maffes, of the colours revealed by God from
Sinai as the nobleft ; — blue, purple, and fcarlet, with gold
(other hues, chiefly green, with white and black, being
ufed in points or fmall maifes, to relieve the main colours).
In the early part of the fourteenth century the colours
begin to grow paler; about 1330 the ftyle is already
completely modified ; and at the clofe of the fourteenth
century the colour is quite pale and delicate.
I have not carefully examined the colouring of early
Byzantine work ; but it feems always to have been com-
18 10 alone furnifhing a confiderable number of fubjefts, and efpecially a Death of
the Virgin, with the St. John thrown into the peculiar and violent gefture of grief
afterwards adopted by Giotto in the Entombment of the Arena Chapel.
2 2 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
paratively dark, and in manufcripts is remarkably fo ;
Giotto's paler colouring, therefore, though only part ot
the great European fyftem, was rendered notable by its
flronger contraft with the Byzantine examples.
B. Greater breadth of ?iiafs. It had been the habit of
the Byzantines to break up their draperies by a large num-
ber of minute folds. Norman and Romanefque fculpture
fliowed much of the fame character. Giotto melted all
thefe folds into broad malTes of colour; fo that his com-
politions have fometimes almoft a Titianefque look in this
particular. This innovation was a healthy one, and led to
very noble refults when followed up by fucceeding artifts :
but in many of Giotto's compofitions the figures become
ludicroully cumbrous, from the exceeding limplicity of the
terminal lines, and maffivenefs of unbroken form. The
manner was copied in illuminated manuscripts with great
difadvantage, as it was unfavourable to minute ornamenta-
tion. The French never adopted it in either branch of art,
nor did any other Northern fchool ; minute and (harp folds
of the robes remaining charafteriftic of Northern (more
efpecially of Flemifli and German) defign down to the
lateft times, giving a great fuperiority to the French and
' Flemifh illuminated work, and caufing a proportionate
inferiority in their large picflorial efforts. Even Rubens
and Vandyke cannot free themfelves from a certain mcan-
nefs and minutenefs in difpolition of drapery.
C. Clofe imitation of nature. In this one principle lay
Giotto's great ftrength, and the entire fecret of the revolu-
tion he eifed:ed. It was not by greater learning, not by
the dilcovcry of new theories of art, not by greater tafte,
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 2 3
nor by "ideal" principles of felediion, that he became the
head of the progreiTive fchools of Italy. It was limply by
being interefted in what was going on around him, by
fubftitiiting the geftures of living men for conventional
attitudes, and portraits of living men for conventional faces,
and incidents of every-day life for conventional circum-
ftances, that he became great, and the mailer of the great.
Giotto was to his contemporaries precifely what Millais
is to his contemporaries, — a daring naturalift, in defiance of
tradition, idealifm, and formalifm. The Giottefque move-
ment in the fourteenth, and Pre-Raphaelite movement in
the nineteenth centuries, are precifely Umilar in bearing
and meaning : both being the protefts of vitality againft
mortality, of fpirit againft letter, and of truth againft tra-
dition : and both, which is the more lingular, literally
links in one unbroken chain of feeling ; for exactly as
Niccola Pifano and Giotto were helped by the claffical
fculptures difcovered in their time, the Pre-Raphaelites
have been helped by the works of Niccola and Giotto at
Pifa and Florence : and thus the fiery crofs of truth has
been delivered from fpirit to fpirit, over the duft of inter-
vening generations.
But what, it may be faid by the reader, is the ufe of the
works of Giotto to us f They may indeed have been won-
derful for their time, and of infinite ufe in that time ; but
fince, after Giotto, came Leonardo and Correggio, what is
the ufe of going back to the ruder art, and republifliing
it in the year 1854? Why fliould we fret ourfelves to dig
down to the root of the tree, when we may at once enjoy its
fruit and foliage ? I anfwer, firft, that in all matters relating
24 Giotto a72d his Works i72 Padua.
to human intelled:, it is a great thing to have hold of the
root : that at leaft we ought to fee it, and tafte it, and
handle it ; for it often happens that the root is wholefome
when the leaves, however fair, are ufelefs or poifonous.
In nine cafes out of ten, the firft exprelTion of an idea is
the moft valuable: the idea may afterwards be poliflied and
foftened, and made more attradiive to the general eye ; but
the firft expreffion of it has a freflinefs and brightnefs, like
the flafli of a native cryftal compared to the luftre of glafs
that has been melted and cut. And in the fecond place,
we ought to meafure the value of art lefs by its executive
than by its moral power. Giotto was not indeed one of
the moft accomplillied painters, but he was one of the
greateft men, who ever lived. He was the firft mafter of
his time, in architediure as well as in painting ; he was the
friend of Dante, and the undifputed interpreter of religi-
ous truth, by means of painting, over the whole of Italy.
The works of fiich a man may not be the beft to fet
before children in order to teach them drawing ; but they
alTuredly fliould be ftudied with the greateft care by all
who are interefled in the hiftory of the human mind.
One point more remains to be noticed refpecfting him.
As far as I am aware, he never painted profane fubjedts.
All his important exifting works are exclufively devoted to
the illuftration of Chriftianity. This was not a refult of
his own peculiar feeling or determination; it was a necelfity
of the period. Giotto appears to have confidered himfelf
fimply as a workman, at the command of any employer, for
any kind of work, however humble. " In the fixty-third
*' novel of Franco Sacchetti we read that a ftranger, fuddenly
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 25
" entering Giotto's ftudy, threw down a fliield, and departed,
" faying, * Paint me my arms on that fliield.' Giotto look-
" ing after him, exclaimed, * Who is he ? what is he ? He
" fays, * Paint me my arms,' as if he was one of the Bardi.
" What arms does he bear ?' "* But at the time of Giotto's
eminence, art was never employed on a great fcale except
in the fervice of religion ; nor has it ever been otherwife
employed, except in declining periods. I do not mean to
draw any fevere conclufion from this facfl ; but it is a fad:
neverthelefs, which ought to be very diftindtly ftated, and
very carefully confidered. All progreffive art hitherto has
been religious art ; and commencements of the periods of
decline are accurately marked, in illumination, by its em-
ployment on romances inflead of pfalters ; and in paint-
ing, by its employment on mythology or profane hiftory
inilead of facred hiftory. Yet perhaps I fhould rather
have faid, on heathen ?nythology inftead of Chriftian mytho-
logy ; for this latter term — firft ufed, I believe, by Lord
Lindfay — is more applicable to the fubjedis of the early
painters than that of "facred hiftory.'^ Of all the virtues
commonly found in the higher orders of human mind, that
of a ftern and juft refped; for truth feems to be the rareft ;
fo that while felf-denial, and courage, and charity, and reli-
gious zeal, are difplayed in their utmoft degrees by my-
riads of faints and heroes, it is only once in a century that
a man appears whofe word may be implicitly trufled, and
who, in the relation of a plain fad, will not allow his
prejudices or his pleafure to tempt him to fome colouring
or diftortion of it. Hence the portions of facred hiftory
* Notes to Rogers' Italy.
D
26 Giotto and his Works i7^ Padua.
which have been the conftant fubjed:s of fond popular con-
templation have, in the lapfe of ages, been encumbered
with iid:itious detail ; and their various hiftorians feem to
have confidered the exercife of their imagination innocent,
and even meritorious, if they could increafe either the
vividnefs of conception or the fincerity of belief in their
readers. A due conlideration of that well-known weak-
nefs of the popular mind, which renders a ftatement credi-
ble in proportion to the multitude of local and circumftan-
tial details which accompany it, may lead us to look with
fome indulgence on the errors, however fatal in their ilfue
to the caufe they were intended to advance, of thofe weak
teachers, who thought the acceptance of their general ftate-
ments of Chriftian dod:rine cheaply won by the help of
fome fimple (and generally abfurd) inventions of detail
refpe(fling the life of the Virgin or the Apoftles.
Indeed, I can hardly imagine the Bible to be ever read
with true intereft, unlefs, in our reading, we feel fome
longing for further knowledge of the minute incidents of
the life of Chrift, — for fome records of thofe things, which
** if they had been written every one," the world could
not have contained the books that fliould be written : and
they who have once felt this thirft for further truth, may
iurely both conceive and pardon the earneft queftioning of
fimple difciples (who knew not, as we do, how much had
been indeed revealed), and meafure with fome juftice the
llrcngth of the temptation which betrayed thefe teachers
into adding to the word of Revelation. Together with
this fpecious and fubtle influence, we mull allow for the
inftinc^ of imagination exerting itfelf in the acknowledged
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 2 7
embellifliment of beloved truths. If we refled how much,
even in this age of accurate knowledge, the vifions of
Milton have become confufed in the minds of many per-
fons with fcriptural fad:s, we fliall rather be furprifed, that
in an age of legends fo little fliould be added to the Bible,
than that occafionally we fliould be informed of important
circumftances in facred hiftory with the collateral warning,
" This Mofes fpak not of."*
More efpecially in the domain of painting, it is fur-
prifing to fee how ftridlly the early workmen confined
themfelves to reprefentations of the fame feries of fcenes ;
how little of pidiorial embellifhment they ufually added ;
and how, even in the pofitions and geftures of figures, they
ftrove to give the idea rather of their having feen the Ja^,
than imagined a picfturefque treatment of it. Often, in
examining early art, we miftake confcientioufnefs for fer-
vility, and attribute to the abfence of invention what was
indeed the refult of the earneftnefs of faith.
Nor, in a merely artiftical point of view, is it lefs im-
portant to note, that the greateft advance in power was
made when painters had few fubjed:s to treat. The day
has perhaps come when genius fliould be fliown in the dif-
covery of perpetually various intereft amidfl the incidents
of actual life ; and the abfence of inventive capacity is very
afTuredly proved by the narrow felediion of fubjedts which
commonly appear on the walls of our exhibitions. But
yet it is to be always remembered, that more originality may
Thefe words are gravely added to fome fingular particulars refpeding the
life of Adam, related in a MS. of the fixteenth century preferved in the Heralds'
College.
2 8 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
be fliown in giving intereft to a well-known fubjed: than
in difcovering a new one ; that the greateft poets whom
the world has feen have been contented to retouch and exalt
the creations of their predeceflbrs ; and that the painters
of the middle ages reached their utmoft power by un-
weariedly treading a narrow circle of facred fubjedts.
Nothing is indeed more notable in the hiftory of art
than the exadt balance of its point of excellence, in all things,
midway between fervitude and licenfe. Thus, in choice and
treatment of fubjed:, it became paralyfed among the Byzan-
tines, by being mercilefsly confined to a given feries of
fcenes, and to a given mode of reprefenting them. Giotto
gave it partial liberty and incipient life ; by the artifts who
fucceeded him the range of its fcenery was continually ex-
tended, and the feverity of its ftyle ilowly foftened to per-
fection. But the range was Hill, in fome degree, limited by
the neceffity of its continual fubordination to religious pur-
pofes ; and the ftyle, though foftened, was ftill chafle, and
though tender, felf-reftrained. At lafl came the period of
licenfe : the artifh chofe his fubjed:s from the loweft fcenes
of human life, and let loofe his pafiions in their portraiture.
And the kingdom of art pafTed away.
As if to direcfl us to the obfervation of this great law,
there is a curious vifible type of it in the progrefs of orna-
mentation in manufcripts, correfponding with the various
changes in the higher branch of art. In the courfe of the
I 2th and early 13th centuries, the ornamentation, though
often full of high feeling and fantafy, is fternly enclofed
within limiting border-lines; — at firft, fevere fquares, ob-
longs, or triangles. As the grace of the ornamentation
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 29
advances, thefe border-lines are foftened and broken into
various curves, and the inner defign begins here and there
to overpafs them. Gradually this emergence becomes more
conftant, and the lines which thus efcape throw themfelves
into curvatures expreffive of the mofh exquilite concurrence
of freedom with felf-reftraint. At length the reftraint va-
nishes, the freedom changes confequently into licenfe, and
the page is covered with exuberant, irregular, and foolilli
extravagances of leafage and line.
It only remains to be noticed, that the circumftances of
the time at which Giotto appeared were peculiarly favour-
able to the development of genius; owing partly to the lim-
plicity of the methods of practice, and partly to the naivete'
with which art was commonly regarded. Giotto, like all
the great painters of the period, was merely a travelling
decorator of walls, at so much a day; having at Florence a
bottega, or workfliop, for the produ6tion and fale of fmall
tempera pi6tures. There were no fuch things as " ftudios"
in thofe days. An artift's " ftudies" were over by the time he
was eighteen ; after that he was a lavoratore, " labourer,"
a man who knew his bufinefs, and produced certain works
of known value for a known price ; being troubled with
no philofophical abftradiions, fhutting himfelf up in no
wife for the reception of infpirations ; receiving, indeed,
a good many, as a matter of courfe,— juft as he received the
funbeams which came in at his window, the light which
he worked by ; — in either cafe, without mouthing about it,
or much concerning himfelf as to the nature of it. Not
troubled by critics either ; fatisfied that his work was well
done, and that people would find it out to be well done ;
30
Giotto and his Works in Padua.
but not vain of it, nor more profoundly vexed at its being
found fault with, than a good faddler would be by fome
one's faying his lafh faddle was uneafy in the feat. Not, on
the whole, much molefted by critics, but generally under-
ftood by the men of fenfe, his neighbours and friends, and
permitted to have his own way with the walls he had to
paint, as being, on the whole, an authority about walls ;
receiving at the fame time a good deal of daily encourage-
ment and comfort in the fimple admiration of the populace,
and in the general fenfe of having done good, and painted
what no man could look upon without being the better
for it.
Thus he went, a ferene labourer, throughout the length
and breadth of Italy. For the iirft ten years of his life, a
fhepherd ; then a ftudent, perhaps for five or fix ; then al-
ready in Florence, fetting himfelf to his life's tafic; and called
as a mafiier to Rome when he was only twenty. There
he painted the principal chapel of St. Peter's, and worked
in mofaic alfo ; no handicrafts, that had colour or form for
their objects, feeming unknown to him. Then returning
to Florence, he painted Dante, about the year 1 300,* the
35 th year of Dante's life, the 24th of his own; and de-
figned the facade of the Duomo, on the death of its former
architedt, Arnolfo. Some fix years afterwards he went to
Padua, there painting the chapel which is the fubjed: of our
prefent fiudy, and many other churches. Thence fouth
* Lord Li nd fay's evidence on this point [Chriftian Art, vol ii. p. 174) fccms
quite conclufive. It is impoffible to overrate the value of the work of Giotto in the
Bargello, both for its own intrinfic beauty, and as being executed in this year, which
is not only that in which the Divina Commedia opens, but, as I think, the cul-
minating period in the hillory of the art of the middle ages.
Giotto and his Works ijt Padua. 1 1
v)
again, to Affifi, where he painted half the walls and vaults
of the great convent that flretches itfelf along the Hopes of
the Perugian hills, and various other minor works on his
way there and back to Florence. Staying in his native city
but a little while, he engaged himfelf in other talks at Fer-
rara, Verona, and Ravenna, and at laft at Avignon, where he
became acquainted with Petrarch — working there for fome
three years, from 1324 to 1327;* and then paiTed rapidly
through Florence and Orvieto on his way to Naples, where
" he received the kindeft welcome from the good king
" Robert. The king, ever partial to men of mind and
" genius, took efpecial delight in Giotto's fociety, and ufed
" frequently to vilit him while working in the Caftello
" deir Uovo, taking pleafure in watching his pencil and
*' liftening to his difcourfe; * and Giotto,' fays Vafari, *who
" had ever his repartee andbon-mot ready, held him there,
" fafcinated at once with the magic of his pencil and plea-
" fantry of his tongue.' We are not told the length of his
" fojourn at Naples, but it muft have been for a confiderable
** period, judging from the quantity of works he executed
" there. He had certainly returned to Florence in 1332."
There he was immediately appointed ** chief mafler" of the
works of the Duomo, then in progrefs, ** with a yearly
" falary of one hundred gold florins, and the privilege of
** citizenfhip." He defigned the Campanile, in a more
perfed: form than that which now exifts ; for his intended
fpire, 150 feet in height, never was eredied. He, however,
modelled the bas-reliefs for the bafe of the building, and
fculptured two of them with his own hand. It was after-
* Chrijiian Art, vol. ii. p. 242,
3 2 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
wards completed, with the exception of the fpire, according
to his defign ; but he only faw its foundations laid, and its
iirft marble ftory rife. He died at Florence, on the 8th of
January, 1337, full of honour; happy, perhaps, in depart-
ing at the zenith of his ftrength, when his eye had not
become dim, nor his natural force abated. He was buried
in the cathedral, at the angle neareft his campanile; and
thus the tower, which is the chief grace of his native city,
may be regarded as his own fepulchral monument.
I may refer the reader to the clofe of Lord Lindfay's
letter on Giotto,* from which I have drawn moft of the
particulars above ftated, for a very beautiful fketch of his
character and his art. Of the real rank of that art, in the
abftradt, I do not feel myfelf capable of judging accurately,
having not i^^xv his fineft works (at Affili and Naples), nor
carefully ftudied even thofe at Florence. But I may be
permitted to point out one or two peculiar charadieriftics
in it which have always flruck me forcibly.
In the firft place, Giotto never iinifhed highly. He
was not, indeed, a loofe or fketchy painter, but he was by
no means a delicate one. His lines, as the ftory of the
circle would lead us to exped:, are always firm, but they
are never fine. Even in his fmalleft tempera pid:ures the
touch is bold and fomewhat heavy : in his frefco work
the handling is much broader than that of contemporary
painters, correfponding fomewhat to the chara6ter of many
of the figures, reprefenting plain, mafculine kind of people,
and never reaching any thing like the ideal refinement of
the conceptions even of Benozzo Gozzoli, far lefs of An-
* Chrijlian Art, p. 260.
Giotto and his Works i7t Padua. 3 3
gelico or Francia. For this reafon, the chara6ter of his
painting is better expreiTed by bold wood-engravings than
in general it is likely to be by any other means.
Again, he was a very noble colourift; and in his peculiar
feeling for breadth of hue refembled Titian more than any
other of the Florentine fchool. That is to fay, had he
been born two centuries later, when the art of painting was
fully known, I believe he would have treated his fubjed:s
much more like Titian than like Raphael ; in fad:, the
frefcoes of Titian in the chapel befide the church of St.
Antonio at Padua, are, in all technical qualities, and in
many of their conceptions, almoft exacftly what I believe
Giotto would have done, had he lived in Titian's time.
As it was, he of courfe never attained either richnefs or
truth of colour ; but in ferene brilliancy he is not ealily
rivalled; invariably maffing his hues in large fields,
limiting them firmly, and then filling them with fubtle
gradation. He had the Venetian fondnefs for bars and
ftripes, not unfrequently cafting barred colours obliquely
acrofs the draperies of an upright figure, from fide to fide
(as very notably in the drefs of one of the muficians who
are playing to the dancing of Herodias' daughter, in one
of his frefcoes at Santa Croce) ; and this predilection was
mingled with the truly mediasval love of quartering."^ The
figure of the Madonna in the fmall tempera pidures in the
Academy at Florence is always completely divided into two
narrow fegments by her dark-blue robe.
* I ufe this heraldic word in an inaccurate fenfe, knowing no other that will
exprefs what I mean, — the divifion of the pidlure into quaint fegments of alternating
colour, more marked than any of the figure outlines.
E
34 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
And this is always to be remembered in looking at any
engravings from the works of Giotto ; for the injury they
fuftain in being deprived of their colour is far greater than
in the cafe of later defigners. All works produced in the
fourteenth century agree in being more or lefs decorative;
they were intended in moft inftances to be fubfervient to
architectural effed:, and were executed in the manner beft
calculated to produce a ftriking impreffion when they were
feen in a mafs. The painted wall and the painted window
were part and parcel of one magnificent whole ; and it is as
unjufl: to the work of Giotto, or of any contemporary artift,
to take out a fingle feature from the feries, and reprefent
it in black and white on a feparate page, as it would be to
take out a compartment of a noble coloured window, and
engrave it in the fame manner. What is at once refined
and effective, if feen at the intended diftance in unifon
with the reft of the work, becomes coarfe and infipid
when feen ifolated and near; and the more fkilfully the
defign is arranged, fo as to give full value to the colours
which are introduced in it, the more blank and cold will
it become when it is deprived of them.
In our modern art we have indeed loft fight of one
great principle which regulated that of the middle ages,
namely, that chiarofcuro and colour are incompatible in their
higheft degrees. Wherever chiarofcuro enters, colour muft
lofe fome of its brilliancy. There is no Jliade in a rainbow,
nor in an opal, nor in a piece of mother-of-pearl, nor in
a well-defigned painted window ; only various hues of
perfect colour. The beft piftures, by fubduing their
colour and conventionaliling their chiarofcuro, reconcile
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 3 5
both in their diminifhed degrees ; but a perfed: light
and fliade cannot be given without conliderable lofs of
HveHnefs in colour. Hence the fuppofed inferiority of
Tintoret to Titian. Tintoret is, in reality, the greater
colourift of the two; but he could not bear to fallify his
light and fliadow enough to fet off his colour. Titian
nearly ftrikes the exact mean between the painted glafs of
the 13th century and Rembrandt; while Giotto clofely
approaches the fyftem of painted glafs, and hence his com-
politions lofe grievoufly by being tranflated into black and
white.
But even his chiarofcuro, however fubdued, is not with-
out a peculiar charm; and the accompanying engravings
poiTefs a marked fuperiority over all that have hitherto been
made from the works of this painter, in rendering this
chiarofcuro, as far as poilible, together with the effed: of
the local colours. The true appreciation of art has been
retarded for many years by the habit of trufting to outlines
as a fufficient expreifion of the fentiment of compofitions ;
whereas in all truly great deligns, of whatever age, it is
never the outline, but the difpofition of the maifes, whether
of fhade or colour, on which the real power of the work
depends. For inftance, in Plate III. (The Angel appears
to Anna), the intereft of the compolition depends entirely
upon the broad fhadows which fill the fpaces of the cham-
ber, and of the external paflage in which the attendant is
fitting. This fhade explains the whole fcene in a moment :
gives prominence to the curtain and coverlid of the homely
bed, and the rude cheft and treftles which form the poor
furniture of the houfe ; and conduds the eye eafily and
7 6 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
J
inftantly to the three figures, which, had the fcene been
exprelTed in outHne only, we fhould have had to trace out
with fome care and difficuhy among the pillars of the
loggia and folds of the curtains. So alfo the relief of the
faces in light againft the dark Iky is of peculiar value in
the compofitions No. X. and No. XII.
The drawing of Giotto is, of courfe, exceedingly faulty.
His knowledge of the human figure is deficient ; and this,
the neceifary drawback in all works of the period, occafions
an extreme difficulty in rendering them faithfully in an
engraving. For wherever there is good and legitimate
drawing, the ordinary education of a modern draughtfman
enables him to copy it with tolerable accuracy; but when
once the true forms of nature are departed from, it is by
no means eafy to exprefs exaBly the error, and no more
than the error, of his original. In moft cafes modern
copyifls try to modify or hide the weaknefi^es of the old
art, — by which procedure they very often wholly lofe its
fpirit, and only half redeem its defects; the refults being,
of courfe, at once falfe as reprefentations, and intrinfically
valuelefs. And juft as it requires great courage and
fkill in an interpreter to fpeak out honeftly all the rough
and rude words of the firft fpeaker, and to tranflate de-
liberately and refolutely, in the face of attentive men, the
expreflions of his weaknefs or impatience; fo it requires
at once the utmofi: courage and fkill in a copyift to trace
faithfully the failures of an imperfect mafter, in the front
of modern criticifm, and againft the inborn inftinds of
his own hand and eye. And let him do the beft he can,
he will ftill find that the grace and life of his original are
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 3 7
continually flying off like a vapour, while all the faults he
has fo diligently copied fit rigidly ffaring him in the face,
— a terrible caput mortuum. It is very neceffary that this
fhould be well underffood by the members of the Arundel
Society, when they hear their engravings feverely criticifed.
It is eafy to produce an agreeable engraving by grace-
ful infidelities ; but the entire endeavour of the draughtf-
men employed by this fociety has been to obtain accurately
the character of the original : and he who never pro-
pofes to himfelf to rife above the work he is copying, muft
mofl affuredly often fall beneath it. Such fall is the in-
herent and inevitable penalty on all abfolute copyifm ; and
wherever the copy is made with fincerity, the fall muft
be endured with patience. It will never be an utter or
a degrading fall ; that is referved for thofe who, like vulgar
tranflators, wilfully quit the hand of their mafter, and have
no flrength of their own.
Laftly. It is efpecially to be noticed that thefe works
of Giotto, in common with all others of the period, are
independent of all the inferior fources of pictorial inte-
refl. They never fhow the flightefl attempt at imitative
realifation : they are fimple fuggeflions of ideas, claiming
no regard except for the inherent value of the thoughts.
There is no filling of the landfcape with variety of fcenery,
architecfture, or incident, as in the works of Benozzo
Gozzoli or Perugino ; no wealth of jewellery and gold
fpent on the dreffes of the figures, as in the delicate
labours of Angelico or Gentile da Fabriano. The back-
ground is never more than a few gloomy maffes of rock,
with a tree or two, and perhaps a fountain ; the architec-
117748
3 8 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
ture is merely what is necellary to explain the fcene ;
the drelTes are painted fternly on the " heroic" prin-
ciple of Sir Jofliua Reynolds — that drapery is to be " dra-
pery, and nothing more," — there is no filk, nor velvet, nor
diflinguifhable material of any kind : the whole power of
the pid:ure is refted on the three fimple eflentials of paint-
ing — pure Colour, noble Form, noble Thought.
We moderns, educated in reality far more under the
influence of the Dutch mailers than the Italian, and
taught to look for realifation in all things, have been in
the habit of cafting fcorn on thefe early Italian works, as
if their iimplicity were the refult of ignorance merely.
When we know a little more of art in general, we ihall
begin to fufped; that a man of Giotto's power of mind did
not altogether fuppofe his clufters of formal trees, or di-
minutive malTes of architecture, to be perfed; reprefenta-
tions of the woods of Judea, or of the ftreets of Jerufalem:
we fhall begin to underftand that there is a fymbolical art
which addrelTes the imagination, as well as a realift art
which fuperfedes it; and that the powers of contemplation
and conception which could be fatisfied or excited by thefe
fimple types of natural things, were infinitely more ma-
jeftic than thofe which are fo dependent on the complete-
nefs of what is prefented to them as to be paralyfed by an
error in perfpedtive, or ftifled by the abfence of atmo-
fphere.
Nor is the healthy fimplicity of the period lefs marked
in the feledlion than in the treatment of fubjedls. It has
in thefe days become neceifary for the painter who defires
popularity to accumulate on his canvas whatever is ftartling
Giotto and his JVorks in Padua. 39
in afped: or emotion, and to drain, even to exhauftion,
the vulgar fources of the pathetic. Modern fentiment,
at once feverifh and feeble, remains unawakened except by
the violences of gaiety or gloom ; and the eye refufes to
paufe, except when it is tempted by the luxury of beauty,
or fafcinated by the excitement of terror. It ought not,
therefore, to be without a refpedlful admiration that we
find the mailers of the fourteenth century dwelling on
moments of the moft fubdued and tender feeling, and
leaving the fpec^lator to trace the under-currents of thought
which link them with future events of mightier interefl,
and fill with a prophetic power and myfhery fcenes in
themfelves fo fimple as the meeting of a mafter with his
herdfmen among the hills, or the return of a betrothed
virgin to her houfe.
It is, however, to be remembered that this quietnefs in
charadier of fubjed: was much more pofTible to an early
painter, owing to the connediion in which his works were
to be feen. A modern picture, ifolated and portable,
muft reft all its claims to attention on its own adiual fub-
je(5l : but the pictures of the early mailers were nearly
always parts of a confecutive and ilable feries, in which
many were fubdued, like the connediing pafiages of
a prolonged poem, in order to enhance the value or
meaning of others. The arrangement of the fubjedls
in the Arena Chapel is in this refpecfl peculiarly fkilful ;
and to that arrangement we mull now direct our at-
tention.
It was before noticed that the chapel was built be-
tween 1300 and 1306. The architefbure of Italy in
40
Giotto and his Works in Padua.
3
4-
5,
the beginning of the fourteenth century is always pure,
and often fevere ; but this chapel is
remarkable, even among the fevereft
forms, for the abfence of decoration.
Its plan, feen in the marginal figure,
is a pure oblong, with a narrow ad-
vanced tribune, terminating in a tri-
lateral apfe. Selvatico quotes from
the German writer Stieglitz fome
curious obfervations on the apparent
derivation of its proportions, in com-
mon with thofe of other buildings of
the time, from the number of fides
of its apfe. Without entering into
thefe particulars, it may be noted
that the apfe is jufl one-half the width
of the body of the chapel, and that
the length from the extremity of the
tribune to the weft end is juil feven
times the width of the apfe. The
whole of the body of the chapel was
painted by Giotto ; the walls and roof being entirely co-
vered either with his figure -defigns, or with various fub-
ordinate decorations connecfting and enclofing them.
The woodcut oppofite reprefents the arrangement of
the frefcoes on the fides, extremities, and roof of the chapel.
The fpeftator is fuppofed to be looking from the wefiern
entrance towards the tribune, having on his right the fouth
fide, which is pierced by fix tall windows, and on which
the frefcoes are therefore reduced in number. The north
INTERIOR OF THE ARENA CHAPEL, PADUA, LOOKING EASTWARD.
-•)
Giotto and his IVorks in Padua. 43
fide is pierced by no windows, and on it therefore the fref-
coes are continuous, lighted from the fouth windows.
The feveral fpaces numbered i to 38 are occupied by a
continuous feries of fubje(5ts, reprefenting the Hfe of the
Virgin and of Chrift ; the narrow panels below, marked a,
by Cy &c., are filled by figures of the cardinal virtues and
their opponent vices : on the lunette above the tribune is
painted a Chrifi: in glory, and at the weftern extremity
the Laft Judgment. Thus the walls of the chapel are
covered with a continuous meditative poem on the myflery
of the Incarnation, the ad:s of Redemption, the vices and
virtues of mankind as proceeding from their fcorn or ac-
ceptance of that Redemption, and their final judgment.
The firfi; twelve pid;ures of the feries are exclufively de-
voted to the apocryphal hiftory of the birth and life of the
Virgin. This the Proteftant fpedator will obferve, per-
haps, with little favour, more efpecially as only two com-
partments are given to the miniftry of Chrift, between
his Baptifm and Entry into Jerufalem. Due weight is,
however, to be allowed to Lord Lindfay's remark, that the
legendary hiftory of the Virgin was of peculiar importance
in this chapel, as efpecially dedicated to her fervice ; and
I think alfo that Giotto defired to unite the feries of com-
pofitions in one continuous ad:ion, feeling that to have
enlarged on the feparate miracles of Chrift's miniftry would
have interrupted the onward courfe of thought. As it
is, the mind is led from the firfi: humiliation of Joachim
to the Afcenfion of Chrifl in one unbroken and progrefiive
chain of fcenes ; the miniftry of Chrift being completely
typified by his firfl and lafi: confpicuous miracle : while
44 Giotto and his Works i?i Padua.
the very unimportance of fome of the fubjed:s, as for in-
ftance that of the Watching the Rods, is ufeful in dired:-
ing the fpediator rather to purfue the courfe of the nar-
rative, than to paufe in fatisfied meditation upon any lingle
incident. And it can hardly be doubted that Giotto had
ahb a pecuHar pleafure in dwelHng on the circumftances
of the fhepherd Hfe of the father of the Virgin, owing to
its refemblance to that of his own early years.
The incidents reprefented in thefe iirft twelve paint-
ings are recorded in the two apocryphal gofpels known as
the ** Protevangelion" and " Gofpel of St. Mary."* But
on comparing the flatements in thefe writings (which,
by the by, are in nowife confiftent with each other) with
the paintings in the Arena Chapel, it appeared to me that
Giotto muft occafionally have followed fome more detailed
traditions than are furnillied by either of them ; feeing
that of one or two fubjefts the apocryphal gofpels gave
no diftind: or fufficient explanation. Fortunately, how-
ever, in the courfe of fome other refearches, I met with a
manufcript in the Britifli Mufeum (Harl. 3571,) containing
* It has always appeared ftrange to me, that ecclcfiaftical hiftory fliould poffefs
no more authentic records of the life of the Virgin, before the period at which the
narrative of St. Luke commences, than thefe apocryphal gofpels, which are as
wretched in ftyle as untruftworthy in matter; and are evidently nothing more than
a colledion, in rude imitation of the ftyle of the Evangelifts, of fuch floating tradi-
tions as became current among the weak Chriftians of the earlier ages, when their
inquiries refpeding the hirtory of Mary were met by the obfcurity under which the
Divine will had veiled her humble pcrfon and character. There muft always be
fomcthing painful, to thofc who are familiar with the Scriptures, in reading thefe
feeble and foolifli mockeries of the manner of the infpircd writers ; but it will
be proper, neycrthelcfs, to give the cxaft words in which the fcenes reprefented
by Giotto were recorded to him.
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 45
a complete " Hiflory of the moft Holy Family," written
in Northern Italian of about the middle of the 1 4th cen-
tury ; and appearing to be one of the forms of the legend
which Giotto has occafionally followed in preference to the
ftatements of the Protevangelion. I have therefore, in
illuftration of the paintings, given, when it feemed ufeful,
fome portions of this manufcript ; and thefe, with one or
two verfes of the commonly received accounts, will be found
generally enough to interpret fufficiently the meaning of
the painter.
The following complete lift of the fubje6ts will at once
enable the reader to refer any of them to its place in the
feries, and on the walls of the building ; and I have only now
to remind him in conclulion, that within thofe walls the
greateft painter and greateft poet of mediaeval Italy held
happy companionlliip during the time when the frefcoes
were executed. " It is not difficult," fays the writer already
fo often quoted. Lord Lindfay, " gazing on thefe filent but
" eloquent walls, to repeople them with the group once, as
** we know, five hundred years ago, alTembled within them:
** Giotto intent upon his work, his wife Ciuta admiring his
** progrefs ; and Dante, with abflrad;ed eye, alternately con-
" verfing with his friend, and watching the gambols of the
" children playing on the grafs before the door."
46
Giotto and his Works in Padua,
SERIES OF SUBJECTS.
1. The Rejection of Joachim's OfFering.
2. Joachim retires to the Sheepfold.
3. The Angel appears to Anna.
4. The Sacrifice of Joachim.
5. The Vifion of Joachim.
6. The Meeting at the Golden Gate.
7. The Birth of the Virgin.
8. The Prefentation of the Virgin.
9. The Rods are brought to the High Prieft.
[O. The Watching of the Rods.
1 . The Betrothal of the Virgin.
2. The Virgin returns to her Houfe.
;3. The Angel Gabriel.
[4. The Virgin Annunciate.
5. The Salutation.
i6. The Angel appearing to the Shepherds.
7. The Wife Men's Offering.
8. The Prefentation in the Temple.
9. The Fhght into Egypt.
20. The Maffacre of the Innocents.
21. The Young Chrift in the Temple.
22. The Baptifm of Chrift.
23. The Marriage in Cana.
24. The Raifing of Lazarus.
25. The Entry into Jerufalem.
26. The Expulfion from the Temple-.
27. The Hiring of Judas.
Giotto and his Works in Padua,
47
28. The Laft Supper.
29. The Wafhing of the Feet.
30. The Kifs of Judas.
31. Chrift before Caiaphas.
32. The Scourging of Chrift.
1^1^. Chrift bearing his Crofs.
34. The Crucifixion.
2<^, The Entombment.
i^d. The Refurreftion.
37. The Afcenfion.
38. The Defcent of the Holy Spirit.
^^;rvi^-
I.
THE REJECTION OF JOACHIM'S OFFERING.
it
/ Padua.
SZ
tradition, as he has reprefented Joachim retiring unattended,
— but met by two of his lliepherds, who are fpeaking to
each other, uncertain what to do or how to receive their
mailer. The dog haftens to meet him with joy. The
figure of Joachim is fingularly beautiful in its penfivenefs
and flow motion ; and the ignoblenefs of the herdfmen's
figures is curioufly marked in oppofition to the dignity of
their mafter.
54 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
III.
THE ANGEL APPEARS TO ANNA.
'* Afterwards the angel appeared to Anna his wife,
** faying, * Fear not, neither think that which you fee is a
*' fpirit. For I am that angel who hath offered up your
** prayers and alms before God, and am now fent to tell
*' you that a daughter will be born unto you. * * *
*' Arife, therefore, and go up to Jerufalem ; and when
** you {hall come to that which is called the Golden Gate
*' (becaufe it is gilt with gold), as a fign of what I have
" told you, you fliall meet your hufband, for whofe fafety
** you have been fo much concerned.' " (Gofpel of St. Mary,
** chap. iii. 1-7.)
The accounts in the Protevangelion and in the Har-
leian MS. are much expanded : relating how Anna feared
her hufband was dead, he having been abfent from her
five months ; and how Judith, her maid, taunted her
with her childleffnefs ; and how, going then into her gar-
den, fhe faw a fparrow's neff, full of young, upon a
laurel-tree, and mourning within herfelf, faid, " I am not
" comparable to the very beafts of the earth, for even they
** are fruitful before thee, O Lord. * * * I am
** not comparable to the very earth, for the earth produces
** its fruits to praife thee. Then the angel of the Lord
** flood by her," &c.
Giotto and his Works in Padua.
55
Both the Protevangelion and Harleian MS. agree in
placing the vifion in the garden ; the latter adding, that
fhe fled " into her chamber in great fear, and fell upon
" her bed, and lay as in a trance all that day and all that
" night, but did not tell the vifion to her maid, becaufe
" of her bitter anfwering." Giotto has deviated from both
accounts in making the viflon appear to Anna in her
chamber, while the maid, evidently being confldered an
important perfonage, is at work in the paffage. Apart
from all reference to the legends, there is fomething pecu-
liarly beautiful in the fimplicity of Giotto's conception,
and in the way in which he has fliown the angel entering
at the window, without the leaft endeavour to imprefs our
imagination by darknefs, or light, or clouds, or any other
accelTory ; as though believing that angels might appear
any where, and any day, and to all men, as a matter of
courfe, if we would afk them, or were fit company for
them.
5 6 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
IV.
THE SACRIFICE OF JOACHIM.
The account of this facrifice is only given clearly in the
Harleian MS. ; but even this differs from Giotto's feries
in the order of the vifions, as the fubjed: of the next plate
is recorded iirft in this MS., under the curious heading,
** T)[j]e Sancto Theofilo como I'angelo de Dio aperfe a Joa-
** chim lo qual li anuntia la nativita della vergene Maria ;"
while the record of this vision and facrifice is headed,
** Como I'angelo de Dio aparfe anchora a Joachim." It then
proceeds thus : *' At this very moment of the day" (when
the angel appeared to Anna), ** there appeared a moft
beautiful youth {iinno bclitijjijno zove?2e) among the moun-
tains there, where Joachim was, and faid to Joachim,
* Wherefore doft thou not return to thy wife V And
Joachim anfwered, ' Thefe twenty years God has given
me no fruit of her, wherefore I was chafed from the
temple with infinite fliame. * * * And,
as long as I live, I will give alms of my fiocks to
widows and pilgrims.' *■ * * And thefe
words being finilhed, the youth anfwered, * I am
the angel of God who appeared to thee the other
time for a fign ; and appeared to thy wife Anna, who
always abides in prayer, weeping day and night; and
I have confoled her ; wherefore I command thee to
((
((
(<
t(
<<
Giotto and his IVorks in Padua. 57
" obferve the commandments of God, and his will, which
" I tell you truly, that of thee fhall be born a daughter,
" and that thou {halt offer her to the temple of God, and
" the Holy Spirit fhall reft upon her, and her bleffednefs
" fhall be above the bleffednefs of all virgins, and her
" holinefs fo great that human nature will not be able to
** comprehend it.' * * * * *
" Then Joachim fell upon the earth, faying, * My lord,
I pray thee to pray God for me, and to enter into this
my tabernacle, and blefs me, thy fervant.' The angel
anfwered, * We are all the fervants of God : and know
that my eating would be invifible, and my drinking
could not be {^^.n. by all the men in the world ; but
" of all that thou wouldefl give to me, do thou make
** facrifice to God.' Then Joachim took a lamb without
** fpot or blemifh * * ■* * ^ and when he had
** made facrifice of it, the angel of the Lord difappeared
** and afcended into heaven ; and Joachim fell upon the
*' earth in great fear, and lay from the lixth hour until
" the evening."
This is evidently nothing more than a very vapid imita-
tion of the fcriptural narrative of the appearances of angels
to Abraham and Manoah. But Giotto has put life into it ;
* This paflage in the old Italian of the MS. may intereft fome readers : " E
" complice quefte parole lo zovene refpoxe, dignando, lo fon 1' angelo de Dio, lo quale
" fi te aparfe 1' altra fiada, in fegno, e aparfe a toa mulier Anna che fempre fta in oration
" plauzando di e note, e fi lo confolada ; unde io te comando che tu debie obfervare
" li comandimenti de Dio, ela foua volunta che io te dico veramente, che de la toa fo-
" menza infera una fiola, e quefta offrila al templo de Dio, e lo Spirito fanto repofera in
" ley, ela foa beatitudine fera fovera tute le altre verzene, ela foua fantita fera {\ granae
" che natura humana non la pora comprendere."
H
5 8 Giotto a?7d his Works in Padua,
and I am aware of no other compofition in which fo much
intereft and awe has been given to the Hteral ** burnt facri-
fice." In all other reprefentations of fuch offerings which I
remember, the intereft is concentrated in the Jlaying of the
victim. But Giotto has faftened on the burning of it ;
fhowing the white fkeleton left on the altar, and the fire ftill
hurtling up round it, typical of the Divine wrath, which
is '* as a confuming fire ;" and thus rendering the facrifice
a more clear and fearful type not merely of the outward
wounds and death of Chrift, but of his foul-fufi'ering.
** All my bones are out of joint : my heart is like wax ; it
** is melted in the midft of my bowels."*
The hand of the Deity is feen in the heavens — the fign
of the Divine Prefence.
* (Note by a friend) : — " To me the moft ftriking part of it is, that the fkeleton
is entire (' a bone of him fliall not be broken'), and that the head ftands up ftill
looking to the fkies : is it too fanciful to fee a meaning in this ?"
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 59
V.
THE ANGEL (RAPHAEL) APPEARS TO JOACHIM.
" Now Joachim being in this pain, the Lord God,
* Father of mercy, who abandons not his fervants, nor
* ever fails to confole them in their difhreifes, if they pray
* for his grace and pity, had compaffion on Joachim, and
* heard his prayer, and fent the angel Raphael from
* heaven to earth to confole him, and announce to him
* the nativity of the Virgin Mary. Therefore the angel
' Raphael appeared to Joachim, and comforted him with
' much peace, and foretold to him the birth of the Virgin
* in that glory and gladnefs, faying, * God fave you,
* O friend of God, O Joachim ! the Lord has fent me
* to declare to you an everlafting joy, and a hope that fliall
* have no end.' * •* * * And having
* finillied thefe words, the angel of the Lord difappeared
* from him, and afcended into the heaven." (MS. Harl.)
The paifage which I have omitted is merely one of
the ordinary Romanift accounts of the immaculate con-
ception of the Virgin, put into the form of prophecy.
There are no fufficient details of this part of the legend
either in the Protevangelion or Gofpel of St. Mary;
but it is quite clear that Giotto followed it, and that he
has endeavoured to mark a diilinction in charadler be-
6o Giotto and his Works in Padua.
tween the angels Gabriel and Raphael* in the two
fubjecfls,— the form of Raphael melting back into the
heaven, and being diflincflly recognifed as angelic, while
Gabriel appears invefhed with perfed; humanity. It is
interefting to obferve that the fliepherds, who of courfe
are not fuppofed to fee the form of the Angel (his mani-
feftation being only granted to Joachim during his fleep),
are yet evidently under the influence of a certain degree of
awe and expe(ftation, as being confcious of fome prefence
other than they can perceive, while the animals are un-
confcious altogether.
* The MS. makes the angel Raphael the only meffenger. Giotto clearly adopts
the figure of Gabriel from the Protevangelion.
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 6 1
VI.
THE MEETING AT THE GOLDEN GATE.
** And Joachim went down with the fliepherds, and
** Anna ftood by the gate, and faw Joachim coming with
'* the fhepherds. And flie ran, and hanging about his
*' neck, faid, * Now I know that the Lord hath greatly
" blefTed me.' " (ProtevangeHon, iv. 8, 9.)
This is one of the mofl celebrated of Giotto's com-
politions, and defervedly fo, being full of the moll: folemn
grace and tendernefs. The face of St. Anna, half feen,
is moft touching in its depth of expreffion; and it is
very interefting to obferve how Giotto has enhanced its
fweetnefs, by giving a harder and grolTer character than
is ufual with him to the heads of the other two principal
female figures (not but that this caft of feature is found
frequently in the figures of fomewhat earlier art), and by
the rough and weather-beaten countenance of the enter-
ing lliepherd. In like manner, the falling lines of the
draperies owe a great part of their value to the abrupt
and ugly oblongs of the horizontal mafonry which adjoins
them.
jjxr.
62 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
n
f(
((
((
((
VII.
THE BIRTH OF THE VIRGIN.
" And Joachim faid, * Now I know that the Lord is
propitious to me, and hath taken away all my fins.'
And he went down from the temple of the Lord juftified,
** and went to his own houfe.
** And when nine months were fulfilled to Anna, fhe
brought forth, and faid to the midwife, ' What have I
brought forth ?' And flie told her, a girl.
" Then Anna faid, * The Lord hath this day magnified
my foul.' And fhe laid her in the bed." (Protevangelion,
V. 4-8.)
The compofition is very charadleriftic of Giotto in two
refpefts : firft, in its natural homelinefs and fimplicity (in
older defigns of the fame fubjed: the little Madonna is
reprefented as born with a golden crown on her head) ;
and fecondly, in the fmallnefs of the breafl and head of
the fitting figure on the right, — a fault of proportion often
obfervable in Giotto's figures of children or young girls.
For the firft time, alfo, in this feries, we have here
two fuccellive periods of the fcene reprefented fimultane-
oufly, the babe being painted twice. This pra(flice was
frequent among the early painters, and mufl neceflarily be-
come i'o wherever painting undertakes the talk of length-
Giotto and his Works in Padua.
63
ened narrative. Much abfurd difcuffion has taken place
refpeding its propriety ; the whole queilion being limply
whether the human mind can or cannot pafs from the
contemplation of one event to that of another, without
repofing itfelf on an intermediate gilt frame.
'/a=^
64 Giotto a?id his JVo7^ks in Padua.
VIII.
THE PRESENTATION OF THE VIRGIN.
** And when three years were expired, and the time
*' of her weaning complete, they brought the Virgin to
'* the temple of the Lord with offerings.
" And there were about the temple, according to the
*' fifteen Pfalms of Degrees, fifteen flairs to afcend.
** The parents of the bleffed Virgin and infant Mary
** put her upon one of thefe ffairs ; but while they were
putting off their clothes in which they had travelled, in
the meantime, the Virgin of the Lord in fuch a manner
** went up all the flairs, one after another, without the help
of any one to lead her or lift her, that any one would
have judged from hence that flie was of perfedl age."
(Gofpel of St. Mary, iv. 1-6.)
There feems nothing very miraculous in a child's
walking up ftairs at three years old ; but this incident is a
favourite one among the Roman-Catholic painters of every
period : generally, however, reprefenting the child as older
than in the legend, and dwelling rather on the folemn
feeling with which flie prefents herfelf to the high-prieft,
than on the mere fad; of her being able to walk alone.
Giotto has clearly regarded the incident entirely in this
light ; for St. Anna touches the child's arm as if to fupport
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Giotto and his Works in Padua,
65
her ; fo that the fo-called miraculous walking is not even
hinted at.
Lord Lindfay particularly notices that the Virgin is
** a dwarf woman inftead of a child ; — the delineation of
" childhood was one of the latefl triumphs of art." Even in
the time of thofe lateft triumphs, however, the fame fault
was committed in another way ; and a boy of eight or ten
was commonly reprefented — even by Raffaelle himfelf — as
a dwarf Hercules, with all the gladiatorial mufcles already
vilible in ftunted rotundity. Giotto probably felt he had
not power enough to give dignity to a child of three years
old, and intended the womanly form to be rather typical
of the Virgin's advanced mind, than an actual reprefenta-
tion of her perfon.
66 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
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IX.
THE RODS ARE BROUGHT TO THE HIGH-PRIEST.
" Then he (the high-priefl) appointed that all the men
*' of the houfe and family of David who were marriageable,
and not married, fhould bring their feveral rods to the
altar. And out of whatfoever perfon's rod, after it was
brought, a flower fliould bud forth, and on the top of
it the Spirit of the Lord fliould fit in the appearance
of a dove, he fhould be the man to whom the Virgin
fhould be given, and be betrothed to her." (Gofpel of
St. Mary, v. i6, 17.)
There has originally been very little interefl in this
compofition ; and the injuries which it has fuffered have
rendered it impolTible for the draftfman to diftinguifh the
true folds of the draperies amidft the defaced and worn
colours of the frefco, fo that the character of the central
figure is loft. The only points requiring notice are, firfl,
the manner in which St. Jofeph holds his rod, deprefling
and half-concealing it,* while the other fuitors prefent
theirs boldly ; and fecondly, the graceful though mono-
tonous grouping of the heads of the crowd behind him.
This mode of rendering the prefence of a large multitude,
* In the next chapter, it is faid that " Jolcph drew back liis rod when every one
elfe Drefcntcd his."
Giotto and his Works in Padua.
67
fhowing only the crowns of the heads in complicated
perfped:ive, was long practifed in mofaics and illuminations
before the time of Giotto, and always poiTefTes a certain
degree of fublimity in its power of fuggefling perfed:
unity of feeling and movement among the crowd.
6 8 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
a
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X.
THE WATCHING OF THE RODS AT THE ALTAR.
" After the high-prieft had received their rods, he
went into the temple to pray.
** And when he had finifhed his prayer, he took the
rods and went forth and diftributed them ; and there was
** no miracle attended them.
" The laft rod was taken by Jofeph ; and, behold, a
dove proceeded out of the rod, and flew upon the head
of Jofeph." (Protevangelion, viii. 9-1 1.)
This is among the leail: graceful defigns of the feries ;
though the clumlinefs in the contours of the leading
figures is indeed a fault which often occurs in the painter's
beft works, but it is here unredeemed by the reft of the
compofition. The group of the fuitors, however, repre-
fented as waiting at the outfide of the temple, is very
beautiful in its earneftnefs, more efpecially in the pafTionate
exprefTion of the figure in front. It is difiicult to look
long at the pid:ure without feeling a degree of anxiety,
and ftrong fympathy with the filent watching of the
fuitors; and this is a fign of no fmall power in the work.
The head of Jofeph is feen far back on the extreme left ;
thus indicating by its pofition his humility, and defire to
withdraw from the trial.
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 69
XI.
THE BETROTHAL OF THE VIRGIN.
There is no diftiruft notice of this event in the apocry-
phal Gofpel : the traditional reprefentation of it is nearly
always more or lefs iimilar. Lord Lindfay's account of the
compoiition before us is as follows :
" The high-priefl, {landing in front of the altar, joins
" their hands ; behind the Virgin ftand her bridefmaids ;
" behind St. Jofeph the unfuccefsful fuitors, one of whom
** fteps forward to ftrike him, and another breaks his rod
" on his knee. Jofeph bears his own rod, on the flower
'* of which the Holy Spirit refts in the femblance of a
" dove."
The development of this fubjed: by Perugino (for Raf-
faelle's pidiure in the Brera is little more than a modified
copy of Perugino's, now at Caen,) is well known ; but
notwithftanding all its beauty, there is not, I think, any
thing in the adlion of the difappointed fuitors fo perfectly
true or touching as that of the youth breaking his rod in
this compofition of Giotto's ; nor is there among any of
the figures the expreffion of folemn earneftnefs and intent-
nefs on the event which is marked amono; the attendants
here, and in the countenances of the officiating priefts.
"JO Giotto and his Works in Padua.
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XII.
THE VIRGIN MARY RETURNS TO HER HOUSE.
** Accordingly, the ufual ceremonies of betrothing
" being over, he (Jofeph) returned to his own city of
Bethlehem to fet his houfe in order, and to make the
needful provifions for the marriage. But the Virgin of
the Lord, Mary, with {even other virgins of the fame
age, who had been weaned at the fame time, and who
had been appointed to attend her by the prieft, returned
to her parents' houfe in Galilee." (Gofpel of St. Mary,
vi. 6, 7.)
Of all the compolitions in the Arena Chapel 1 think
this the moft charadieriftic of the noble time in which
it was done. It is not fo notable as exhibiting the mind
of Giotto, which is perhaps more fully feen in fubjed:s
reprefenting varied emotion, as in the Umplicity and repofe
which were peculiar to the compolitions of the early four-
teenth century. In order to judge of it fairly, it ought
firft to be compared with any clalfical compofition — with
a portion, for inftance, of the Elgin frieze, — which would
inftantly make manifeft in it a ftrange fcrioufnefs and
dignity and flownefs of motion, refulting chiefly from the
exceflive fnnplicity of all its terminal lines. Obferve, for in-
ilance, the pure wave from the back of the Virgin's head
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 7 1
to the ground ; and again, the delicate fwelHng Hne along
her fhoulder and left arm, oppofed to the nearly unbroken
fall of the drapery of the figure in front. It fliould then
be compared with an Egyptian or Ninevite feries of
figures, which, by contrail, would bring out its perfe6l
fweetnefs and grace, as well as its variety of expreffion :
finally, it fhould be compared with any compofition fub-
fequent to the time of Raifaelle, in order to feel its noble
freedom from picftorial artifice and attitude. Thefe three
comparifons cannot be made carefully without a fenfe of
profound reverence for the national fpirit* which could
produce a delign fo majefhic, and yet remain content with
one fo fimple.
The fmall loggia of the Virgin's houfe is noticeable, as
being difi?erent from the architecture introduced in the
other pictures, and more accurately reprefenting the Italian
Gothic of the dwelling-houfe of the period. The arches
of the windows have no capitals ; but this omiffion is
either to fave time, or to prevent the background from
becoming too confpicuous. All the real buildings defigned
by Giotto have the capital completely developed.
* National, becaufe Giotto's works are properly to be looked on as iht fruit of
their own age, and the. food of that which followed.
7 2 Giotto and his IVorhs iri Padua.
XIII. w
THE ANNUNCIATION.— THE ANGEL GABRIEL.
This figure is placed on one fide of the arch at the eafl:
end of the body of the chapel ; the correfponding figure
of the Virgin being fet on the other fide. It was a con-
flant practice of the mediaeval artifts thus to divide this
fubjed: ; which, indeed, was fo often painted, that the
meaning of the feparated figures of the Angel and Mary
was as well underftood as when they were feen in juxta-
pofition. Indeed, on the two fides of this arch they would
hardly be confidered as feparated, lince very frequently
they were fet to anfwer to each other from the oppofite
extremities of a large fpace of architecture.*
The figure of the Angel is notable chiefly for its
ferenity, as oppofed to the late rconceptions of the fcene,
in which he fails into the chamber upon the wing, like
a Hooping falcon.
The building above is more developed than in any
other of the Arena paintings ; but it muft always remain
a matter of queflion, why fo exquifite a defigner of archi-
tecture as Giotto ihould introduce forms lb harfli and
meagre into his backgrounds. Polfibly he felt that
• As, for inftance, on the two oppofite angles of the facade of the Cathedral of"
Rheims.
Giotto and his Works in Padua. 7 3
the very faults of the archite(flure enhanced the grace
and increafed the importance of the figures ; at leaft,
the proceeding feems to me inexphcable on any other
theory.*
* (Note by a friend :) "I fuppofe you will not admit as an explanation, that he
had not yet turned his mind to architedural compofition, the Campanile being fome
thirty years later ?"
K
74 Giotto and his Works in Padua.
XIV. ^
THE ANNUNCIATION.— THE VIRGIN MARY.
Vafari, in his notice of one of Giotto's Annunciations,
praifes him for having juftly rendered they^'^r of the Virgin
at the addrefs of the Angel. If he ever treated the fubjed:
in fuch a manner, he departed from all the traditions of
his time ; for I am aware of no painting of this fcene,
during the courfe of the thirteenth and following centu-
ries, which does not reprefent the Virgin as perfedily
tranquil, receiving the meflage of the Angel in folemn
thought and gentle humility, but without a fhadow of
fear. It was referved for the painters of the lixteenth
and feventeenth centuries to change angelic majefty into
recklefs impetuolity, and maiden meditation into panic
dread.
The face of the Virgin is flightly difappointing.
Giotto never reached a very high ftandard of beauty in
feature ; depending much on diftant eifed: in all his works,
and therefore more on general arrangement of colour and
fmcerity of gefture, than on refinement of drawing in the
countenance.
Giotto and his Works i?i Padua. 7 5
XV. \U
THE SALUTATION.
Tliis picture, placed beneath the figure of the Virgin
Annunciate at the eaft end of the chapel, and necefl'arily
fmall, (as will be feen by the plan,) in confequence of the
fpace occupied by the arch which it flanks, begins the
fecond or lower feries of frefcoes ; being, at the fame time,
the firfl: of the great chain of more familiar fubjed:s, in
which we have the power of comparing the conceptions of
Giotto not only with the defigns of earlier ages, but with
the efforts which fubfequent mafters have made to exalt or
vary the ideas of the principal fcenes in the life of the Vir-
gin and of Chrift. The two paintings of the Angel Gab-
riel and the Virgin Annunciate hardly provoke fuch a com-
parifon, being almoft ftatue-like in the calm fubje(5tion of
all dramatic interefh to the fymmetrical dignity and beauty
of the two figures, leading, as they do, the whole fyftem
of the decoration of the chapel ; but this of the Salutation
is treated with no fuch reference to the architecfture, and
at once challenges comparifon with the works of later
mafters.
Nor is the challenge feebly maintained. I have no
hefitation in faying, that, among all the renderings of this
fcene which now exifl, I remember none which gives the
L
76 Giotto and his Works in Padua,
pure depth and plain fadls of it fo perfedly as this of
Giotto's. Of majeftic women bowing themfelves to beau-
tiful and meek girls, both wearing gorgeous robes, in the
midft of lovely fcenery, or at the doors of Palladian palaces,
we have enough ; but I do not know any picfture which
feems to me to give fo truthful an idea of the ad:ion with
which Elizabeth and Mary muft actually have met, — which
gives fo exadly the way in which Elizabeth would ftretch
her arms, and ftoop and gaze into Mary's face, and the
way in which Mary's hand would flip beneath Elizabeth's
arms, and raife her up to kifs her. I know not any
Elizabeth fo full of intenfe love, and joy, and humblenefs;
hardly any Madonna in which tendernefs and dignity are
fo quietly blended. She not lefs humble, and yet accept-
ing the reverence of Elizabeth as her appointed portion,
faying, in her fimplicity and truth, " He that is mighty
hath magnified m^e, and holy is His name." The longer
that this group is looked upon, the more it will be felt that
Giotto has done well to withdraw from it nearly all accef-
fories of landfcapc and adornment, and to truft it to the
power of its own deep expreflion. We may gaze upon
the two filent figures until their filence feems to be broken,
and the words of the queftion and reply found in our ears,
low, as if from far away :
** Whence is this to me, that the Mother of my Lord
fhould come to me ? "
'' My foul doth magnify the Lord, and my fpirit hath
rejoiced in God my Saviour."
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 7 7
XVI. V\
THE NATIVITY.
I am not fure whether I fliull do well or kindly in tell-
ing the reader any thing about this beautiful delign. Per-
haps the lefs he knows about early art or early traditions,
the more deeply he will feel its purity and truth ; for there
is fcarcely an incident here, or any thing in the manner
of reprefenting the incidents, which is not mentioned or
juftified in Scripture. The bold hilly background reminds
us that Bethlehem was in the hill-country of Judah. But
it may feem to have two purpofes belides this literal one :
the firft, that it increafes the idea oi expofure and loneli-
nefs in the birth of Chrift ; the fecond, that the mafles of
the great hills, with the angels floating round them in the
horizontal clouds, may in fome fort reprefent to our
thoughts the power and fpace of that heaven and earth
whofe Lord is being laid in the manger-cradle.
There is an exquilite truth and fweetnefs in the way
the Virgin turns upon the couch, in order herfelf to affift
in laying the Child down. Giotto is in this exadly faith-
ful to the fcriptural words : ''She wrapped the Child in
fwaddling-clothes, and laid Him in a manger." Jofeph
fits beneath in meditation ; above, the angels, all exulting,
and, as it were, confufed with joy, flutter and circle in the
78 Giotto and his Worls in Padua, '^
air like birds, — three looking up to the Father's throne with
praife and thankfulnefs, one {looping to adore the Prince
of Peace, one flying to tell the {hepherds. There is fome-
thing to me peculiarly affeding in this dilbrder of theirs ;
even angels, as it were, breaking their ranks wdth wonder,
and not knowing how to utter their gladnefs and paffion of
praife. There is noticeable here, as in all works of this
early time, a certain confidence in the way in which the
angels truft to their wings, very charaderiftic of a period
of bold and fimple conception. Modern fcience has taught
us that a wing cannot be anatomically joined to a flioulder ;
and in proportion as painters approach more and more to
the fcientific, as diftinguifhed from the contemplative ftate
of mind, they put the wings of their angels on more
timidly, and dwell with greater emphafis upon the human
form, and with lefs upon the wings, until thefe lall
become a fpecies of decorative appendage, — a mere Jign
of an angel. But in Giotto's time an angel w^as a com-
plete creature, as much believed in as a bird ; and the way
in which it would or might caft itfelf into the air, and lean
hither and thither upon its plumes, was as naturally ap-
prehended as the manner of flight of a chough or a ftarling.
Hence Dante's fimple and moft exquifite fynonym for
ani^cl, ** Bird of God ; " and hence alfo a variety and pic-
turefquencfs in the exprelTion of the movements of the hea-
venly hierarchies by the earlier painters, ill replaced by the
powers of forcfliortening, and throwing naked limbs into
fantaflic pofitions, which appear in the cherubic groups of
later times.
It is necdlcfs to point out the frank afl'ociation of the
Giotto and his Works in Padua, 'y- 79
two events, — the Nativity, and appearance of the Angel to
the Shepherds. They are conftantly thus joined ; but I do
not remember any other example in which they are joined
fo boldly. Ufually the (liepherds are feen in the diftance,
or are introduced in fome ornamental border, or other in-
ferior place. The view of painting as a mode of fuggeft-
ing relative or confecutive thoughts, rather than a realifa-
tion of any one fcene, is feldom fo fearleflly afferted, even
by Giotto, as here, in placing the flocks of the ihepherds
at the foot of the Virgin's bed.
This bed, it will be noticed, is on a flielf of rock. This
is in compliance with the idea founded on the Protevange-
lion and the apocryphal book known as the Gofpel of In-
fancy, that our Saviour was born in a cave, affociated with
the fcriptural ftatement that He was laid in a manger,
of which the apocryphal gofpels do not fpeak.
The vain endeavour to exalt the awe of the moment
of the Saviour's birth has turned, in thefe gofpels, the
outhoufe of the inn into a fpecies of fubterranean chapel,
full of incenfe and candles. ** It was after funfet, when
" the old woman (the midwife), and Jofeph with her,
" reached the cave ; and they both went into it. And be-
" hold, it was all filled with light, greater than the light
of lamps and candles, and greater than the light of the
fun itfelf." (Infancy, i. 9.) "Then a bright cloud
*' overiliadowed the cave, and the midwife faid : This day
" my foul is magnified." (Protevangelion, xiv. 10.)
The thirteenth chapter of the Protevangelion is, how-
ever, a little more fkilful in this attempt at exaltation.
" And leaving her and his fons in the cave, Jofeph went
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8o Giotto and his Works in Padua. N^
" forth to feek a Hebrew midwife in the village of Beth-
" lehem. But as I was going, faid Jofeph, I looked up
*' into the air, and I faw the clouds afloniflied, and the
** fowls of the air flopping in the midft of their flight
" And I looked down towards the earth and faw a table
" fpread, and working-people fitting around it ; but their
" hands were on the table, and they did not move to eat.
" But all their faces were fixed upwards." (Protevange-
lion, xiii. 1-7.)
It would, of courfe, be abfurd to endeavour to infti-
tute any comparifon between the various pidures of this
fubjed:, innumerable as they are ; but I mud: at lead:
deprecate Lord Lindfay's charaderifing this defign of
Giotto's merely as the " Byzantine compofition." It
contains, indeed, nothing more than the materials of the
Byzantine compofition ; but I know no Byzantine Na-
tivity which at all refembles it in the grace and life of its
adlion. And, for full a century after Giotto's time, in
northern Europe, the Nativity was reprefented in a far
more conventional manner than this ; — ufually only the
heads of the ox and afs are feen, and they are arranging,
or holding with their mouths, the drapery of the couch of
the Child, who is not being laid in it by the Virgin, but
raifed upon a kind of tablet high above her in the centre
of the group. All thefe early defigns, without exception,
however, agree in exprefling a certain degree of languor
in the figure of the Virgin, and in making her recumbent
on the bed. It is not till the fifteenth century that (lie is
reprefented as exempt from fuffcring, and immediately
kneclino- in adoration before the Child.
o
Giotto and his Works i?t Padua. 8
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