cation which the unhappy children of the fanatical royalists received, but they nevertheless granted the letters of pardon, which my little girl bore off in triumph.

"I left my prison, and having remained two or three months at Nantes, I obtained a passport to go to Paris, where I finished some business. I afterwards returned to la Baronnière, that estate of my husband of which I have already spoken. I was obliged to sell this property in order to fulfil some engagements entered into by him, that he might contribute to the expenses of the war. Scarcely enough remained for me to live upon; but I casily consoled myself in thinking of the honorable causes of our ruin.

After having experienced so many misfortunes-after having supported so many sufferings of want, of sickness, of a wandering life, of flight, and of imprisonment, simple necessaries and tranquillity had become a positive happiness.

I had no fears for my daughter. Her happy disposition, her understanding, and her affection for me, presented to me a future upon which I could look with hope and even with joy. Heaven has granted all my dearest wishes. I have beheld the triumph of that cause which my husband upheld with so much glory, and for which, after having so often shed his blood, he yielded his life. Oh! how frequently has the remembrance of him made me proud, and yet oppressed me, when I have seen that ancient and beloved throne again established. Át that memorable epoch I did not shed a tear of joy without thinking of him whom these great events would have rendered perfectly happy, if God had permitted him to live to have become a witness of them.

'In fine, the marriage of my daughter, and the benefits of our august monarch, leave me nothing more to desire on earth. I have an ineffaceable and mournful remembrance that I shall carry to my gravebut I still bless that Providence which has deigned to grant me all the happiness which can indemnify and console a mother.'

The work is edited by Mad. de Genlis, who has added some notes, full of that ultra loyalty for which she has made herself so famous, and which are but slight improvements to the volume in any respect, while they add nothing to the simplicity which is its greatest charm.

1

SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OF CORREGGIO AND PARMEGIANO. We have seen few works lately which possess greater interest to persons of taste in general, and particularly to such of them as are devoted to the fine arts, than the Sketches of the Lives of Correggio and Parmegiano. So many absurd stories have been commonly credited in England, and have even found their way into books bearing some character of authority, that a clear and true account of these painters, and particularly of Correggio, had become absolutely necessary. Such an account is furnished by the book now before us; and, although it has no merit beyond that of being industriously compiled from preceding biographies of the painters, and particularly from those of Pungileoni and Il Padre Affò, still its utility, and the fairness with which it has been performed, give it a powerful claim to attention. The author, rejecting at once all the fables which have been invented respecting Correggio's family, confesses the doubts or difficul.

ties which environ this history wherever they exist, and gives reasonable authority for all the facts and suggestions which he asserts or puts forward. Upon a subject so interesting, we shall not need our readers' pardon for the copiousness of our extracts:

'Antonio de' Allegri, usually called Correggio, was born in 1493, or 1494. The family from which he was descended had been long settled at Correggio, and bore the appellation of Allegri; for we find one of that name recorded in 1329, as doing homage to the princes of that city. A descendant of this man, Giacomo, was father to Antonio, the first of whom any distinct information can be procured, and who was living at Correggio towards the beginning of the fifteenth century. His grandson, Antonio, had by his wife, Francesca Toano, four sous, of whom two survived. Lorenzo, the younger, was a painter by profession; and the elder, Pellegrino, espoused Bernardina Piazzoli, or Aromani, by whom he had three daughters, two of whom died young, and an only son, Antonio, the celebrated painter, and the subject of this narrative. Antonio bore various appellations; Allegri, his family name, de Allegris, and Lætus, the synonyms in Latin, and the Italian derivative Lieto; but these, according to the custom of the time, are lost in the appellative Correggio, taken from the place of his birth.

The city of Correggio had long flourished, as the capital of an independent principality, and its sovereigns are justly commemorated as the patrons of literature and the arts. At the close of the fifteenth century, the government was jointly exercised by Manfredo, Nicolo, and Gilberto, members of the same illustrious family, the last of whom was the husband of Veronica Gambara, so renowned for her protection and cultivation of letters. In a city where literature and the arts were thus favoured, and their professors encouraged and patronised, the means of liberal education were not deficient; and hence we find that Antonio was carefully instructed, under the auspices of his father, Pellegrino, a tradesman of moderate property, and, as such, entitled to the appellation of maestro or master, then a respectable distinction. Antonio acquired the rudiments of knowledge under Giovanni Berni, a native of Placentia, and was afterwards instructed by Battista Marastoni, a Modenese, in rhetoric, and the other branches of polite literature.'

The researches of the biographer with respect to the masters by whom Correggio was first taught seem to be in vain. He was, however, employed at an early age in works of some importance:

The sum of one hundred ducats having been bequeathed to the Franciscan Convent of Minor Friars at Correggio, for the erection of an altarpiece in their church, they selected Antonio Allegri for the work; and with the consent of his father, Pellegrino, he entered into an agreement for the purpose, on the 30th of August, 1514. The price stipulated was one hundred ducats, of which fifty were paid in advance, exclusive of the wood, which was provided by the community, at the expense of twentytwo ducats more. Ten ducats were also assigned for leaf gold, besides the charge for erecting the scaffolding and other preparations. This sum, as his recent biographers justly argue, indicates no ordinary degree of reputation, and completely refutes the idle assertions of Vasari, and his superficial copyists, that Correggio was ill paid for his works ; since such a recompense, according to the comparative value of money, would be deemed a liberal reward, for so young an artist, even at the present day.

This altar-piece represented the Virgin, supporting the infant Saviour

in her lap, with St. Joseph on one side, and on the other St. Francis, kneeling. The height was two braccia, and the breadth one two-thirds, or nearly five feet by four. The painting remained in its place until August, 1638, when it was stolen, and an inferior performance substituted, as was supposed, by a Spanish painter, who, by the permission of the governor, Annibale Molza, was suffered to take a copy.

The loss of so valuable a piece was regarded as a public calamity, and almost occasioned a commotion; for after the convocation of a general council, above two hundred persons of all ranks assembled in the antechamber of the governor's palace, to complain of the robbery, and demand justice on the offenders. A deputation of nobles was also sent to the Duke of Modena and to the Bishop of Reggio, for permission to prosecute the Friars, who had connived at the theft. Memorials were presented to the Pope, to the sacred college, and to the general and provincial of the order; but all these efforts were ineffectual, and no traces of the original have been since discovered.'

Correggio's talents soon raised his reputation, and he was fully and profitably employed in the city of Parma by the various religious com munities. It was at this period, about the year 1522, that he produced his celebrated picture of the Nativity, or, as it is now called, La Notte, The description of this picture is extremely well written, and very true:

This picture is doubtless the most singular, if not the most beautiful work of this great master. Adopting an idea hitherto unknown to painters, he has created a new principle of light and shade; and in the limited space of nine feet by six has expanded a breadth and depth of perspective which defies description. The time he has chosen is the adoration of the shepherds, who, after hearing the glad tidings of joy and salvation, proclaimed by the heavenly host, hastened to hail the new-born King and Saviour. On so unpromising a subject as the birth of a child, in so mean a place as a stable, the painter has, however, thrown the air of divinity itself. The principal light emanates from the body of the infant, and illuminates the surrounding objects; but a secondary light is borrowed from a group of angels above, which, while it aids the general effect, is yet itself irradiated by the glory breaking from the child, and allego rizing the expression of Scripture, that Christ was the true light of the world. Nor is the art with which the figures are represented less admirable than the management of the light. The face of the child is skilfully hidden by its oblique position, from the conviction, that the features of a new born infant are ill adapted to please the eye; but that of the Virgin is warmly irradiated, and yet so disposed, that in bending with maternal fondness over her offspring, it exhibits exquisite beauty, without the harshness of deep shadows. The light strikes boldly on the lower part of her face, and is lost in a fainter glow on the eyes, while the forehead is thrown into shade. The figures of Joseph and the shepherds are traced with the same skilful pencil; and the glow which illuminates the piece is heightened to the imagination by the attitude of a shepherdess bringing an offering of doves, who shades her eyes with her hand, as if unable to sustain the brightness of incarnate Divinity. The glimmering of the rising dawn, which shows the figures in the back ground, contributes to augment the splendour of the principal glory. "The beauty, grace, and finish of the piece," says Mengs, "are admirable, and every part is executed in a peculiar and appropriate style."

About the same period, too, he produced the St. Jerome.

Correggio then undertook the painting of the cupola of the cathedral at Parma; but, after having proceeded to a certain extent, he relinquished his labours in disgust at the tasteless interference of some of the churchmen, who pretended to criticise and direct his performHe retired to Correggio, where he lived until the period of his

ances. death.

Be

The last document extant relative to his labours proves that he was not unoccupied in his profession; for, in the beginning of 1534, he received a commission from Alberto Panciroli, father of the celebrated Guido, to paint an altar-piece. The price and subject are not known, but he received in advance twenty-five golden crowns. fore, however, he could enter on the execution of his performance, he was seized with a malignant fever, and died suddenly at Correggio, on the 5th of March, 1534, in the 41st year of his age. On the next day, he was buried in the family sepulchre, in the Franciscan convent of Minor Friars, and the following is the brief and simple record of a loss so fatal to the arts:

"Ai di 5 di Marzo morì Maestro Antonio Allegri, depintore, e fu sepolto a 6 detto, in Francesco, sotto il portico."

"In the sexton's book we also find an entry relative to the fees paid for his funeral, and the services afterwards performed for the repose of his soul. The fulfilment of the engagement with Alberto Panciroli being thus prevented by his death, his father, on the 15th of the following June, repaid to Paulo Burani, the agent of Alberto, the twentyfive crowns which he had received in advance; and the acquittance, which is still extant, alludes to the fact of his sudden and untimely decease.'

One of the most important and interesting parts of the work is that in which the author investigates the truth of the common opinion respecting the painter's poverty and the manner of his death; and we are happy to be able to add that we think he refutes satisfactorily the painful stories which have been told on these points:

'The question has been long agitated whether Correggio ever visited Rome, and profited by the study of the antique, and the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo. On this point the only historical evidence which has been adduced is a tradition recorded by Father Resta, and said to have been derived through three generations, from the information of his wife. As an authority so slight and doubtful could not be seriously advanced, his biographers and admirers have sought in his works for more valid traces of the models to which he recurred. Mengs contends that his paintings exhibit proofs of an acquaintance with the antique, and the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo. In the head of the Danaë he traces a resemblance to that of the Venus de Medicis; and, in the St. Jerome, and Mercury Teaching Cupid to Read, he recognises imitations of the Farnese Hercules and the Apollo Belvidere; he also discovers a resemblance to one of the Children of Niobe in the young man who endeavours to escape from the soldiers, in the picture representing Christ betrayed in the garden. The countenance of the Magdalen, in the St. Jerome, he considers as an imitation of Raphael; and, in the cupola of the

church of St. John, he perceives a similitude to the grand style of Michael Angelo, in the frescos of the Vatican. In corroboration of this opinion he adduces the sudden change which is perceived in the style of Correggio, at an early period, as a proof that he must have seen and studied compositions superior to his own. Ratti, the copyist of Mengs, coincides with him in opinion. Lanzi cautiously adopts the same sentiment; and Tiraboschi, after comparing the testimony on both sides, leaves the question thus unsettled: "We cannot decide with certainty that Correggio never visited Rome, and yet there is no argument to prove that he ever saw that capital." Pungileoni, with superior advantages of research, pronounces a contrary deci sion; and affirms, from the evidence of a continued series of unquestionable documents, in which his presence is mentioned at Parma, Correggio, and other parts of Lombardy, during a number of years, that, even if he did visit Rome, his stay must have been limited to a very short period. Finally, this opinion is corroborated by the assertion of Ortensio Landi, who had resided some time at Correggio; and who, in his Sette Libri de' Cataloghi, printed at Venice by Giolito, as early as 1552, says of our painter: "He was a noble production of nature, rather than of any master: he died young, without having been able to see Rome.” Were all other evidence wanting, this testimony of a contemporary, who must have collected his information on the spot, and who published within eighteen years after the death of Correggio, would of itself be decisive.

"His occasional imitation of the antique we are not disposed to question; but this admission is far from justifying the inference that he actually visited Rome: for, in the collections of Mantegna at Mantua, he must have found numerous copies of the antique; and in those of Isabella d'Este, and the Ducal Gallery, statues, busts, and relievos, sufficient to gratify his curiosity, and improve his taste. With great deference also to the opinion of Mengs, we have been unable to trace, in the paintings of Correggio, which have fallen under our observation, such striking imitations of Michael Angelo and Raphael, as would countenance the conclusion that he must have studied and copied their works. In style and character, on the contrary, he widely differed from those two great painters; and, in the tone of colouring, as well as in the science of clear obscure, which were his great characteristics, they were comparatively inferior.

If indeed he imitated the productions of any other pencil, we should rather seek for his models in the works of Leonardo da Vinci, from whom he may have caught the first principle of clear obscure, and whom he rivals in the graces of his children, and the ineffable smile of the female countenance. We find also a similitude in the fulness, richness, and transparency of his colouring, to that of Giorgione, the imitator of Leonardo, from whom the Venetian school derived its characteristic excellence. We can scarcely doubt, likewise, that he studied in the works of Titian, then in the height of his fame, those tints which approach the animation of real life, and that magic of colouring, which fascinates and almost deceives the sight. These three painters had all attained the perfection of their art at a period anterior to the striking change which marks the best style of