the sword were familiar to his hand. Profoundly versed in the knowledge of anatomy and mathematics, with a taste for poetry also, fascinating in his manners, rich and brilliant in remark, he sparkles upon us in such a variety of hues, that it is difficult to determine, amidst so many lights, which individual lustre partakes of the most brilliancy. The consequence is what might well be expected, that his works are, for the most part, incomplete; he began many things, and accomplished little. Of this his famous piece, representing the last supper, is a striking evidence. The disciples are portrayed with countenances composing different groups of sorrow, fear, astonishment: and the sly and treacherous Judas exhibits a powerful contrast, where the eye immediately recognises the traitor. But to the everlasting regret of all admirers of the graphic art, the head of our Saviour is left unfinished in the group.

Of the Florentine school, Andrea Del Sarto excelled in fresco and oil painting. One of his most celebrated pieces is denominated the Preaching of St. John in the wilderness. The countenance of the Saint is sunburnt, expressive of a life led in the desert. Some of his followers are listening with deep attention, some with astonishment, some with conviction. The whole is remarkable for correct outline, elegance of disposition and well disposed drapery. He likewise finished a painting, the head and hands of which were from the pencil of Raphael, and the drapery by Julio Romano, which was executed with such skill, and so well did he adopt the style of both, that he even deceived Romano himself.

To this painter succeeded Daniel De Volterra. He rendered himself illustrious by his painting called the Descent from the Cross, in the Trinita del Monte. The figure of our Saviour is executed in the best manner of Michael Angelo: a model of expression, style, and breadth.

Fra Bartolomeo was likewise an eminent painter of this school and his Assumption of the Virgin is considered as a splendid and awful instance of the union of character, expression, and effect, that by their combined efforts produce one decided whole. Christopher Allori was justly distinguished for the gracefulness of his design and fine colourings.

Of the paintings of this school, the only one of which an engraving can now be procured, is the annexed, called the Marriage of St. Catharine, from the hand of Pietro da Cortona. The two heads of the females have a pleasing character, and are dressed with elegance and taste. The draperies have affected attitudes, and are pronounced too heavy and monotonous, The figures are of a natural size; the design is elegant, and the colouring vigorous.

This eminent artist, named Pietro Barretini, was born at Cortona, in the year 1580. He manifested an early genius for the pencil, and with that veiw left his native place for Florence. Reduced to the last extremity by his poverty, he connected himself with a scullion boy, a native of Cortona, who was in the service of Cardinal Sachetti. He was received by him with every demonstration of penurious hospitality, and shared the straw on which this son of poverty was accustomed to sleep. For two years they supported themselves together on what the refuse of the kitchen afforded. Pietro was not insensible of such kindness: he filled the garret of his hospitable host with his drawings, the only requital which it was then in his power to offer.

Poverty however was unable to subdue his enterprising genius. He struggled with his antagonist with that persevering industry which is almost an infallible omen of future success. At times he supported himself solely on bread, and studied in a distant city. When the shades of night overtook him, we behold this child of misfortune sleeping under a portieo, waiting only till the dawn of day for the resumption of his labours.

Accident at last threw one of these drawings into the hands of Cardinal Sachetti. Struck with their uncommon merit, he immediately busied himself in inquiries concerning their author, and at length discovered him in an insulated convent, where some compassionate monks had employed him to copy a picture of Raphael, and, to remunerate him, allowed him a lodging and a seat at the second table.

The Cardinal immediately received him with the most hospitable complacency, benevolently granted him a pension, and

placed him in the school of one of the most eminent painters in Rome. To the honour of Pietro it must be recorded, that great as his obligations were to the munificent Cardinal, he never forgot those which he owed to the poor scullion, who was the first to rejoice at the present prosperous change in the circumstances of his friend, and in the fortune which he subsequently amassed.

We hope that it is not improper to pause here for a moment, and to dwell with delight on those small links which bind the destiny of man-events apparently fortuitous when they happen, are plainly afterwards seen to be guided by an overruling Providence; which illustrate the truth of Shakspeare's remark

There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,

Rough hew them as we will.

The events that led to the prosperity of our artist are, first, the connexion he formed with this poor scullion, a circumstance that poverty appeared only to have brought about, and the alliance which this scullion had with the subsequent munificent patron of Pietro. To these are added others, that the cardinal should possess a taste for the pencil, and should enjoy in connexion with his opulence a liberal and munificent heart. Thus does Fortune, while she hoards up treasures, become, by the secret workings of divine wisdom, the admirer and the patroness of humble and suffering genius.

Our artist did not attempt to rival the great masters of the Florentine school in the peculiar points of their excellence. Declining a contest so unequal, he contented himself with bending the powers of his mind to the humbler departments of the art. He studied, with great attention, disposition, or the art of making all his figures subservient to one grand object. With this view he departed from the principles inculcated by his masters, as well as what has been delivered down from Grecian models, and multiplied the forms upon his canvass. All these were so judiciously disposed, as to heighten our interest in the painter's main design; and to that they were cautiously restricted. The scholars of Cortona were, like him, unsparing of their groups; but they did not, in imitation of him, study the art of disposition.

Their figures appear, therefore, so many insulated individuals; and the attention is broken, dispersed, and divided. But disposition is not the only point of Cortona's excellence. He studied likewise with great success chiaro obscuro, or the art of giving, by strong asses of light and shade, a bold relief to his figures. Cardinal Borghese employed Pietro to decorate the walls of his palace with his pencil. He painted landscapes, where not only the scenery, but the fruit on the trees, were admirably wrought. It was touched by a bold and free hand; and the fruit appeared in so bold a relief, it seemed to invite the hand no less than the eye of the spectator.

The Palace Pitti, at Florence, (so called from the name of the unfortunate merchant who ruined himself in the fifteenth century by erecting it) received the decorations of his pencil. While he was employed, in representing on the walls the iron age, the face of a weeping infant constituted one of the group. Prince Ferdinand, on entering the room, exclaimed-"How well that child cries!" "Has your majesty a wish," answered Pietro, "to see how easy it is to make this child laugh? Behold, I will prove it in an instant." So saying, he gave the contour of the mouth a concave turn downwards, instead of the convex upwards, which it before had, and with no alteration in the upper part of the face, the child seemed ready to suffocate with laughter. After he had so amused his royal guest by this specimen of his skill, he restored the altered features, and went on with his work.

The Palazzo Barberini was likewise ornamented with some of Pietro's productions; and it was there that he finished an apotheosis of Urban. Under such auspices he acquired fame and fortune, and died in the year 1640, and in the fiftieth year of his age.

This outline, faint and imperfect as it is, may serve to encou rage youthful genius to persevere, and never to despond: perhaps the very moment of despair may be the crisis of good fortune-a moment which if abandoned may depart forever, and leave such hopeless despondency to the destiny it merits. It is further a warning to the opulent, not to slight the notice of imploring and indigent genius. How many, like Pietro, may be