N the thirteenth century, after long ages of neglect, a taste for paintings and other objects in refined art began to revive in Italy, although not for several centuries later was any improvement in this respect manifested in England. While the British Islands continued the scene of barbaric civil wars, Italy was tranquilly engaged in the arts of peace. Two things conspired to assist art in Italy-the encouragement of men of learning and wealth, and the naturally fine artistic talent of certain obscure individuals, who devoted themselves to the profession of painting. The demand for pictures to embellish palaces and churches was the more immediate cause of vast numbers of paintings being executed. We propose mentioning a few of the great names known in connection with art in Italy and other countries in early times.

CIMABUE AND GIOTTO.

CIMABUE was born at Florence in 1240, and while still a child, manifested a taste for drawing. Happening to see the works of some Greek painters, he was affected by an extraordinary desire to study under them: his wishes were agreed to; and so diligently did he pursue his profession, that he soon excelled his masters. From

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his performances a school of art sprung up in Florence, which thus took the lead in the revival of taste. Cimabue lived to the age of sixty, and died in 1300. A notice of Cimabue interestingly leads to the history of his successor.

In the year 1276, in the town of Vespignano, about forty miles from Florence, there lived a poor labouring man named Bondone. This man had a son whom he brought up in the ignorance usual to the lowly condition of a peasant-boy. But the extraordinary powers of the child, uncultivated as they necessarily were, and his surprising quickness of perception and never-failing vivacity, made him the delight of his father, and of the unsophisticated people among whom he lived. At the age of ten, his father intrusted him with the care of a flock. Now the happy little shepherd-boy strolled at his will over meadow and plain with his woolly charge, and amused himself with lying on the grass and sketching, as fancy led him, the surrounding objects on broad flat stones, sand, or soft earth. His sole pencils were a hard stick or a sharp piece of stone; his chief models were his flock, which he used to copy as they gathered around him in various attitudes.

One day as the shepherd-boy lay in the midst of his flock, earnestly sketching something on a stone, there came by a traveller. Struck with the boy's deep attention to his work, and the unconscious grace of his attitude, the stranger stopped, and went to look at his work. It was a sketch of a sheep, drawn with such freedom and truth of nature, that the traveller beheld it with astonishment. 'Whose son are you?' cried he with eagerness.

The startled boy looked up in the face of his questioner. 'My father is Bondone the labourer, and I am his little Giotto, so please the signor,' said he.

'Well, then, little Giotto, should you like to come and live with me, and learn how to draw and paint sheep like this, and horses, and even men?'

The child's eyes flashed with delight. 'I will go with you anywhere to learn that. But,' he added, as a sudden reflection made him change colour, 'I must first go and ask my father; I can do nothing without his leave.'

"That is quite right, my boy, and so we will go to him together,' said the stranger. It was the painter Cimabue.

Great was the wonder of old Bondone at such a sudden proposal; but he perceived his son's wish, though Giotto was fearful of expressing it, and consented. He accompanied his boy to Florence, and there left his little Giotto under the painter's care.

His pupil's progress surpassed Cimabue's expectations. In delineating nature Giotto soon went beyond his master, to whom a good deal of the formality of modern Greek art, which he had been the first to cast aside, still clung. One morning the artist came into his studio, and looking at a half-finished head, saw a fly resting on the

nose.

Cimabue tried to brush it off, when he discovered that it was only painted.

"Who has done this?' cried he, half angry, half delighted.

Giotto crept trembling from a corner, and confessed his fault. But he met with praise instead of reproof from his master, who loved art too well to be indignant at his pupil's talent, even though the frolic were directed against himself.

As Giotto grew older, his fame spread far and wide. Pope Benedict XI. sent messengers to him one day; they entered the artist's studio, and informed him of the pope's request that he should send a design for an intended church; for Giotto, like most of the artists of those early times, was an architect as well as a painter. He took a sheet of paper, fixed his elbow at his side, to keep his hand steady, and drew instantly a perfect circle.

Tell His Holiness that this is my design,' said he; and with all their remonstrances, Giotto refused to give any other. Pope Benedict was a learned man; he saw that Giotto had given the best instance of perfection in his art; sent for him to Rome, and honoured and rewarded him. 'Round as Giotto's O,' became an Italian proverb. Giotto, as these stories testify, was a pleasant and humorous

man.

The talents of Giotto won him the patronage of the great of his country. He visited in succession Padua, Verona, and Ferrara. At the latter city he remained some time painting for the Prince of Este. While there, Dante heard of Giotto, and invited him to Ravenna, the abode then of the exiled Florentine poet. There also he painted many of his works, and formed a strong friendship with the great Dante. The poor shepherd-boy of Vespignano was now in the height of his fame. Admitted into the society of the Italian nobles, enjoying the friendship of the talented men of his age— Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch—and admired by all, his was indeed an enviable position. He was, moreover, a good man, as well as great, loved by all his friends; and, as his biographer Vasari says, a good Christian, as well as an excellent painter.' He died at Milan in the year 1336, and was followed to the grave by the sorrow of his friends, his obsequies receiving those public honours which he so well merited.

LEONARDO DA VINCI.

Or all the annals of youthful genius, there are none more remarkable than the history of Leonardo da Vinci. He was wonderful in his childhood for original genius; in youth for the surprising versatility of those talents, both natural and acquired; and in mature life he seemed able to do everything, and, moreover, to do every

thing well. He was at once painter, sculptor, architect, musician, poet, mechanist, chemist, astronomer: a man of science, and yet the ornament of a court, beautiful in his person, fascinating in his manner, and gifted with amiable qualities, which preserved the esteem which his exterior won at first sight, and prevented his companions from bearing malicious envy towards him for all those brilliant qualities which nature seemed to have lavished on him.

Leonardo was born in 1452 at Vinci, a small fortified town in the Val d'Arno. From his birthplace he derived his surname, as was the custom with most artists of that period. His father was a notary of Florence, respectable, though not of high birth. Even in childhood, Leonardo was remarkable for his surprising talent and readiness in acquiring all that was taught him. He would propose questions in arithmetic to his master, who in vain puzzled himself to answer them; and then the pretty laughing boy would astonish his old instructor by solving the difficulty with the greatest ease. His musical talents were not less remarkable; he studied it as a science with the greatest avidity and enthusiasm, played on the lyre, and sang the words and music, which were entirely his own composition.

But as he grew older, the great delight of Leonardo seemed to be the study of painting. At this time art was gradually increasing in fame and power, influencing all ranks of society in Italy. Lorenzo dei Medici, the most powerful of the nobles, encouraged and protected art in every way with so unbounded favour, that he gained the deserved title of 'the Magnificent.' Lorenzo's influence spread a taste for literature, and more especially for art, throughout his native Florence, which extended through all Tuscany. It is probable that this might have influenced Leonardo in his juvenile preference; for it is certain that, among all the pursuits of his childhood, he loved painting best. Uninstructed as he was, his designs and models soon became excellent, and his delighted father at last determined to shew these productions to Andrea Verrocchio, one of the cleverest artists of the day. Andrea saw in them the dawnings of great power, and gladly received Leonardo as a pupil in his studio, where, by a combination then very usual, he followed the professions of painter, sculptor, architect, and even jeweller.

Time passed on, and the young Leonardo improved so fast, that Verrocchio could not but acknowledge to himself that the pupil was little inferior to the master. Partly to prove or disprove this inward doubt, and partly from the generous wish to excite his pupil's diligence, Andrea desired Leonardo to paint a portion of a picture on which he was himself engaged. The subject was 'St John baptising our Saviour;' Da Vinci's task was an angel supporting some drapery. The delighted youth worked with redoubled diligence, and the figure was completed. Verrocchio came to see it; he looked at it a long time in silence; it was infinitely superior to the rest of the picture.

The artist's eye could not deny this, however grievous was the shock his pride sustained.

'Is this, in truth, your own work? No one assisted you?' said he to Leonardo, who stood by.

‘It is indeed, Messer Andrea,' eagerly replied the boy.

'Then I will not submit to be outdone by a child; I will never touch a pencil more.' And Andrea Verrocchio kept his word: he never painted afterwards.

After this, Leonardo quitted Andrea, and pursued his studies alone. He resided at Florence, where his father had an estate. There is a characteristic story of him in these youthful days. Signor Pietro da Vinci had a favourite attendant in the field-sports, in which he delighted. One day he asked this man what mark of regard would be most pleasing to him in return for his services. The peasant answered that he would consider about it. One day he brought a piece of wood, cut from a large fig-tree, and requested that his young master, Il Signorino Leonardo, would paint upon it something to adorn his little cottage. The father asked his son to accede to this rather strange request for a peasant, and the young artist agreed, only resolving to astonish his father by his improvement. So he planed the wood smooth, filled up the little holes, and began to paint. His chosen subject was a Medusa's head, with its serpent-hair. For models he brought from the fields toads, vipers, lizards, and every kind of ugly reptile. From these he designed such a fearful-looking monster, that the boy almost shuddered at the work of his own hands. When the picture was finished, he brought his father to see it. Signor Pietro glanced round the room: his eyes fell on the Medusa: he started back with horror and surprise, and was about to run away from the vicinity of such a number of poisonous reptiles, when Leonardo assured him it was only a picture-his own work. And now,' cried the delighted boy, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm-now I am quite satisfied: I have done what I wished. My picture has the effect I intended.'

The proud and happy father lavished warm praise on his gifted boy; but he would not give a picture like this to the peasant. It was sold to a Florentine merchant for one hundred ducats, which is equivalent to about £22 of our money-a sum which, in those days, was considered as much as £400 is now. The Duke of Milan soon afterwards bought it for treble the sum for which it was first purchased. The ultimate fate of this curious picture is unknown.

In spite of his extreme youth, Da Vinci quickly attained to fame. His universal talents gave a certain degree of unsteadiness to his character, inasmuch as he would now and then leave his painting for all sorts of desultory studies. But he always returned to the one great object, and devoted himself to everything that would advance him in art. He was the first artist who thoroughly studied anatomy, in which his knowledge was very great. His writings on this subject