to dine at the table of the Pope's Swiss Guards, and to go birdcatching among the ruins of ancient Rome ("per queste anticaglie "). But the Tedesco's misdeeds did not stop there. Is he not accused of wishing to turn away from the door such of Leonardo's intimate friends as tried to penetrate to his studio? Does he not demand that wooden models of the instruments he has to make in iron should be provided for him, models which he no doubt intends to carry off into his own country?

The other German, a certain Giovanni, or Hans, maker of mirrors, also made himself obnoxious to Leonardo by his curiosity. He wandered incessantly into his studio, trying to see what he was about, so that he might criticise him out of doors. Moreover, he corrupted his fellow-countryman, the mechanic, partly to revenge himself upon Leonardo, who had—so he said—caused him to lose the favour of Giuliano, partly because he coveted the mechanic's room as a workshop for himself.

In another letter, and one very difficult to construe, Leonardo seems to make allusions to this same Giovanni Tedesco. He says that a certain person-"questro altro "-had interfered with his anatomical studies by finding fault with his dissections, in the Pope's presence and at the hospital. (That the Papal Court should have scruples on such a subject is intelligible enough.) But this was only the beginning of the misdeeds of this particular persecutor. Had he not filled the Belvedere with workshops for mirror-makers? Had he not taken possession of Maestro Giorgio's room for the same purpose ? Had he not declared that eight ducats "per mensem" had been promised to him, and that payments should have begun from the day when he set out for Rome, or at least from the day on which his conversation with the addressee of Leonardo's epistle (Giuliano de' Medici) had taken place? At last we reach the capital offence of all the ill-doer in question showed himself but rarely in his workshop! As he is a needy man, Leonardo proposes that he should be held to his work by giving up payment by time-by the month--for payments by the piece.1

One of the most tantalising questions-and how many there are the

Richter, vol. ii., p. 427–410.

reader already knows-suggested by the work of Leonardo, is that of the origin and date of the wonderful mural picture in the Roman convent of Sant' Onofrio, on the Janiculum. Until quite recently connoisseurs were united in ascribing this free and vivacious performance to the master himself, and that in spite of a certain want of suavity in the conception. During the last few years, however, it has been claimed for one or another of his pupils, most frequently for Boltraffio.

Let us look fairly at the data. It is incontestable that the Sant' Onofrio fresco approaches closely to the Milanese manner of Leonardo when the Florentine master first came in contact with the old Milanese painters, Foppa and Zenale.2

I may be met with the objection that Leonardo visited Rome for the first time in 1504

or 1505, so that he could not have been the author of a work which dates from some twenty years before. Such criticism is both petty and false! Because we

1 "As for the Sant' Onofrio picture of the Virgin and Child with a donor, admirable as it is, it shows a certain hardness and dryness in the drawing of the Infant's arms, and I cannot think it was painted at this time, and so should be disposed to believe that Leonardo had paid a visit to Rome in his youth." (Mündler, Essai d'une Analyse critique de la Notice des Tableaux italiens au Louvre, 1850, p. 113.)

2 Under the portico of the basilica of S. Ambrose, at Milan, a bas-relief is let into the left-hand wall which seems to me to be connected with the Sant' Onofrio picture. It is dated "24 Martii, 1477." It contains three figures, a kneeling donor, the Virgin in a free though rather affected pose (her type, on the other hand, is poor and hard) and the Child, whose attitude is also well understood and free. The whole shows striking analogies with Leonardo's composition.

have no documentary evidence of any such voyage, are we to tie ourselves down to the belief that Leonardo, in his youth, never traversed the few leagues of road which divided Florence, or Milan for that matter, from the Eternal City? Are we to say that because no "procès-verbal" was drawn up and attested before a notary, that no such excursion-it was little more-had ever been made?

would be a strange way of using documents and interpreting the silence

of archives!

That

In default of other documents, let us see what the master's drawings have to say. They will perhaps allow us to look a little more deeply into the question. In the first place we find in the collection at Windsor Castle a drawing in red chalk which shows us, twice over, the Child Jesus, seated, and bending towards an invisible donor. According to some connoisseurs this is a study for the Child Jesus in the Madonna of Sant' Onofrio. One of the two especially in the lower part of the limbs, to the Roman fresco. The only difference is in the action. of the arms. But we must be sure of the authenticity of the Windsor drawing. Doubts have been thrown upon it by Morelli, who here sees the hand of Cesare da Sesto, and that although he ascribes the fresco itself to Boltraffio! .

(Bonnat Collection, Paris.)

figures bears a real likeness, body and the position of the

For my part, I confess that Leonardo's hand does not seem to me

VOL. II

D D

conspicuous in these two studies. They are too facile, almost too frivolous. The most we can admit--and I do not like venturing upon such hypotheses-is that they may have been copied from originals by the master. In any case, they do not date from 1485, but from about 1515.

M. Bonnat possesses a drawing in which we may recognise a study, with slight variations, for the Infant Christ. It differs from the fresco in that the Child's left hand lies upon the cushion which supports its body, while in the painting it is extended; the right foot, which lies upon the cushion, hangs free in the fresco; finally, the left foot keeps the Child's body in its place against the cushion in the drawing, while in the fresco it rests very gently against the Virgin's robe. This drawing has vastly more firmness than the one at Windsor; it is not unworthy of the master. The Infant Christ of the sketch for the Madonna del Gatto in M. Bonnat's collection (see above, p. 188) foreshadows that of the Madonna of Sant' Onofrio. Seated on his Mother's lap, he has drawn his left leg up, leaving the right to hang. His right arm is stretched out on the opposite side.

Let us turn to the painting itself. Towards the centre sits the Virgin, a half-length figure. She smiles upon her Infant, who raises his right hand to bless the donor. The type reminds us of Boltraffio's Virgin in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum, which does not mean, however, that Boltraffio's claims to the authorship of the Sant' Onofrio fresco are beyond dispute. The Mother's two hands-the one resting lightly on her drapery, in which a single finger is engaged, the other raised in a gesture full of ease and grace-are ready to support the "bambino" in case of accident. The features of Mary are as full of careless happiness as those of the Child are grave beyond his years. His countenance has a certain archaic hardness.

about it, and he concentrates all his attention on the act of benediction. The kneeling donor, cap in hand, offers another contrast by his gravity to the sovereign grace of Mary. His head is modelled with consummate art. In motive and certainty of execution this portrait differs very widely indeed from the donors introduced by Boltraffio into the Madonna della Casa Casio of the Louvre.