picture. In short, it is only too evident that we need not seek either prototype or pendant for the miracle of Santa Maria delle Grazie in this feeble work.

In his religious compositions, Leonardo, it must be admitted, was given to straying a little from his theme. The Virgin of the Rocks, the Adoration of the Magi, the John the Baptist, astonish and charm us beyond measure; but they hardly tend to edify us in the same degree. In his Last Supper, on the other hand, the master attacked the problem from the front, without circumlocution or subterfuge, determined to restrict himself to the gospel story, and to look to the subject itself for all it could offer. Hence it is that the painting in Santa Maria delle Grazie may be classed with Raphael's cartoons, as a work breathing forth the purest evangelic spirit, a work before which believers of every creed love to meditate, and in admiration of which they find a stimulus to faith.

No picture was ever lingered over more lovingly. It had matured in the artist's mind long before his hand began to translate the image engraven on his brain. Leonardo thought of it day and night; he rigorously applied this maxim of the Trattato della Pittura (cap. xvii.): "It is useful to go over in one's mind at night the things one has studied. I have also found it very useful," he adds, “when in bed, in the silence of the night, to recall the ideas of things one has studied and drawn, to retrace the contours of the figures that demand most reflection and application. By this means, the images of objects become more vivid, the impression they have made is fortified, and rendered more permanent." So great was his power of evocation, that when absent from his work, he suddenly saw the features, the characteristics required for such and such figures. Eager to fix the image that was in his mind, he would run in haste to the refectory to make the necessary corrections, and then return to his business or his walk. The anecdote told in this connection by Matteo Bandello, the skilful bishop-diplomatist, and licentious author of the Novelle, is very instructive:" In the time of Lodovico Sforza Visconti, Duke of Milan, certain gentlemen, visiting Santa Maria delle Grazie, the monastery of the Dominican friars, stood motionless in contemplation before the marvellous and celebrated Last Supper, on which the excellent

Florentine painter, Leonardo da Vinci, was then working. The artist took pleasure in hearing each one freely express his opinion of the work. It was his habit, as I myself was witness on several occasions, to mount the scaffolding before it (for the painting is at some considerable height above the ground) and to remain, brush in hand, from sunrise to sunset, forgetting to eat and drink, and painting without intermission. Sometimes, after this, he would be three or four days together without touching it, and yet he would stay before

it an hour or two every day, contemplating it, considering and examining the figures he had created. I have also seen him, following the dictates of fancy or of eccentricity, start off at midday, when the sun was in the sign of the Lion, from the Corte Vecchia, where he was modelling his marvellous equestrian statue, and go straight to the monastery, where, mounting the scaffold, he would seize his brush, give a touch or two to one of the figures, and then depart and go elsewhere."1

1 Leonardo seems to draw upon his own experience in a passage of the Trattato della Pittura (cap. lvi.) in which he says: "Do not act after the manner of some painters, who, finding their imagination fatigued, leave their work, and take exercise by walking; they carry away with them a weariness of mind that prevents them from seeing or hearing the friends and relatives they meet."... Is there not a striking analogy between this passage and Bandello's anecdote ?

"Cardinal de Gurck was lodged at the Monastery delle Grazie at the time; he entered the refectory at the moment when the gentlemen in question were assembled before the painting. As soon as Leonardo perceived him, he came down to pay his respects to him, and the prelate received him graciously, and loaded him with praise. Many subjects were discussed, notably the excellence of the painting; several of those present expressed regret that none of the ancient pictures so highly extolled by classic writers had survived, that we might decide

whether the masters of our time were equal to those of antiquity. The cardinal asked the painter what salary the Duke gave him. Leonardo replied that his regular pay was 2,000 ducats, apart from the gifts and presents the Duke continually lavished on him with the greatest munificence. The cardinal said it was a great deal. After he had quitted the refectory, Leonardo began to tell the assembled gentlemen a pretty story, showing how great painters have been honoured in all ages, and I, being present during his discourse, made a note of it in 1 Cardinal de Gurck visited Milan in January, 1497, and lodged at the monastery. Signor Uzielli infers that the Last Supper was finished by then. (Leonardo da Vinci e tre Gentildonne milanesi del Secolo xv., p. 5.)

B B

my memory, and had it present in my mind when I began to write my Novelle."

Tradition says the Prior tormented Leonardo unceasingly to get the painting finished promptly. "This simple person could in no way comprehend," says Vasari, "wherefore the artist should sometimes remain half a day together absorbed in thought before his work, without making any progress that he could see; he would have had him work away as did the men who were digging in his garden, never laying the brush aside. Nay, more; he went and complained to the Duke, and with such importunity, that the latter was at length compelled to send for Leonardo. Lodovico very adroitly exhorted Leonardo to finish the work, taking care to let it be seen that he had only acted on the solicitations of the Prior. Leonardo, knowing the prince to be intelligent and judicious, discoursed with him at some length on the matter, talking of art, and making him understand that men of genius are sometimes producing most when they seem to be labouring least, their minds being occupied in invention, and in the formation of those perfect conceptions to which they afterwards give form and expression with the hand. He added that he still had two heads to execute: that of Christ, which he could not hope to find on earth, and yet had not attained the power of presenting to himself in imagination, with that perfection of beauty and of celestial grace proper to the Godhead incarnate; and that of Judas, which also gave him much anxiety, since he could not imagine a form by which to render the countenance of a man, who, after so many benefits received, had a heart so base as to be capable of betraying his Lord, and the Creator of the world. With regard to the second, however, he would continue to make search; and, after all, if he could find no better, he might always make use of the head of that indiscreet and importunate Prior. This last touch made the Duke laugh heartily; he declared Leonardo to be completely in the right; and the poor Prior, utterly confounded, henceforth occupied himself in overlooking the workers in his garden, and left Leonardo in peace." We know, however, that Lodovico was at last obliged himself to press the over-fastidious artist. On June 30, 1497, he ordered one of his agents "to beg Leonardo the Florentine to finish his work in the refectory of Santa Maria