For Leo X. Raffaelle also executed a set of twelve cartoons— a species of painting on large sheets of stiffened paper-repre senting passages in the New Testament. These cartoons were designs to be copied in tapestry in the Netherlands. Some of them are still preserved at Hampton Court, near London.

Raffaelle's fame was now at its height, and reached the ears of Albert Durer, the great German painter and engraver on copper. Albert sent his own portrait, and some of his engravings, to Raffaelle, who was so delighted with them, that he studied the art himself, and caused to be engraved several of his own pictures. He also, in return, sent to Albert Durer some beautiful designs of his own, which were held most precious by the German

artist.

Raffaelle's greatest work, and, alas! his last, was "the Transfiguration of Christ," which he painted for Cardinal de Medici. In this he put forth all his powers, and it remains a lasting memorial of his genius. While engaged upon it, a sudden fever seized him, which, for want of proper treatment, proved fatal, and terminated his life in the prime of youth and talent. Raffaelle died on the day of his birth, Good-Friday, in 1520, aged only thirty-seven. His body was laid in state in his own studio, his scarcely-finished picture of the Transfiguration being placed above it, that his sorrowful friends might look from the lifeless form of the painter to his immortal work.

ALBERT DURER.

THIS great man was the first, and probably the best, of Ger man artists. His family originally came from Hungary; they settled in Nuremberg, where Albert's father followed the business of a goldsmith. The boy was born in 1471, in the merry month of May, and in due time received the usual simple education of a burgher's son. Albert learned readily all that was taught him, and from his childhood was accounted a very clever boy. However, in those early times, it took far less learning to gain a reputation for ability than in our days. Martin Hapse was the name of Albert Durer's first master, under whose care he studied a little of drawing and engraving, so as to qualify him for suecess in his father's trade.

When his slight education was completed, Albert began to work in gold, under his father's direction. But this occupation was little suited to one whose mind was already full of art. Albert soon became weary of his trade, and longed to be a painter. So, after some few struggles between the goldsmith of Nurem berg and his refractory son, to whom the precious metals had no charm, it was at last agreed that young Albert should be placed as a pupil with Michael Wolgemuth, an artist and engraver,

though of inferior merit. With this man it was impossible for the youth to learn much; but his talents received a right direction, while at the same time he was instructed in other needful branches of study, such as arithmetic, geometry, and perspective.

In Germany then, as now, it was the custom for young men of every profession to complete their studies by travelling, that they might learn from actual experience, and by seeing the world, before settling down into the active life of manhood. Accordingly, Albert Durer, having remained three years with Michael Wolgemuth, set out on his travels. He went from town to town, painting for his livelihood whenever he could get sitters for portraits, and could find purchasers for the fancy pictures which he executed on his way. The young artist must have been happy in this course of life, for it was considered no discredit, but the contrary, and a wandering student found everywhere a welcome. Also it must have been pleasant to stroll leisurely through his own and foreign lands, everywhere gathering up information from nature herself.

Albert returned home when he was about twenty-six years old, and then it was that he exhibited his pictures for the first time in public. The one which is mentioned as his first work of any moment is "the Three Graces," depicting three graceful female figures, having a globe over their heads. This picture bears the date 1497. Thus Albert Durer's talents were by no means precocious, but matured by long study and observation. It was then customary for students of all professions to produce a chef d'œuvre, each in his own line, for which they received a public reward, and also a diploma acknowledging their excellence, if successful. Albert Durer, accordingly, painted a picture with the greatest care; it was highly praised, and the artist gained the wished-for diploma with more than usual honours.

tures.

After this triumph, Albert again set out to travel. He visited Holland, stayed some time there, and then proceeded to Italy. At Bologna he met Raffaelle, for whom he had always the greatest admiration. They had already corresponded and exchanged picA pleasant meeting it must have been between these two great men, whose genius, remarkable in both from its diversity of character, formed such a strong contrast. Durer at this time was renowned as an engraver on copper and on wood. He was probably the first wood-engraver on record. It is said that, in executing his numerous designs, he found working on copper too tedious a process, and therefore conceived the plan of engraying on wood. He designed and engraved on wood thirty-six illustrations of the life of Christ, which were so beautiful and so much esteemed, that forgers arose to imitate them. One Marc Antonio Franci, a Venetian, copied them, and sold his own spurious productions as the originals of Albert Durer. The German artist hearing of this, immediately set off to Venice, complained

to the government of the injury done him by Franci, and claimed redress. A lawsuit was commenced, by which the dishonest Franci was reduced to beggary. He came to Albert Durer, praying him to forgive the wrong, and excuse him from paying a fine which it was out of his power to raise. The generous artist not only pardoned, but assisted him, and Franci erred no

more.

Albert Durer had a miserable home. To please his father, he had married a neighbour's daughter, whose violent temper ruined her husband's peace. She was a beautiful woman, and Albert painted her several times, particularly in his Madonas. Her violence drove him from his own fireside, to seek elsewhere for the happiness which was there denied him. As we have seen, he travelled a great deal; when at home, it has been laid to his charge that he was prone to intemperance, and to nightly carousals with his companions. If so, it is sad to think that so fine a mind as Albert Durer's should be thus degraded; but, thinking of his domestic sorrows, he deserves our pity as much as our condemnation. He lived in a frugal manner at home, so that many considered him poor. He studied much; and several works of his, written in Latin, were published at Nuremberg after his death. They were chiefly on subjects connected with art.

Durer was ever in high favour with the great of his time. He found friends and patrons in the Emperor Maximilian, Charles V. of Spain, and Ferdinand of Hungary. Maximilian gave him a patent of nobility, but there is no account of his ever assuming his rank. Plain Albert Durer, the goldsmith's son of Nurem berg, is known to posterity as a great artist; no one ever thinks whether he bore a title or not. The emperor also gave him a pension, and loaded him with honours. Thus in everything, except his cheerless home and unhappy domestic life, Albert Durer was happy. His paintings are not very numerous; his chief talent lay in design, in which the fertility of his pencil was inconceivable. The noble simplicity and grandeur of Albert Durer's apostles have passed into a proverb.

Excepting the love for excess, which, it is to be hoped, is exaggerated by his contemporaries, Albert Durer was in private life a good man. He was a strict Protestant, honest and candid in his worldly dealings, and irreproachable in his principles. He died at Nuremberg April 6, 1528.

CORREGIO.

CORREGIO was one of the many great men to whom fame came only after death. His life was passed in comparative obscurity, so that those who would seek for his history must find it in his works alone. Even the date of his birth is uncertain; but it was

between the years 1490 and 1494. His real name was Antonio Allegri; but, like most of the painters of his time, he took his surname from the name of his birthplace, Corregio in Tuscany. Nothing is known of Antonio's father, except that he was a poor man, probably a labourer, and was unable to give his son anything but a very meagre education. Nor is there any record of his first essays in painting. Art must have come upon Corregio like inspiration. Unlike Raffaelle, he had never lived in studios, and probably had never seen a picture; nor, like Giotto, did some kind hand foster the dawning genius of the young peasant. Antonio had no master; and for his early perfection in art he was indebted entirely to his own talent and perseverance. He was one of those instances in which nature seems to do all without the aid of instruction. But such are very rare; and it is impossible, at this distance of time, and with the shadow of obscurity that hangs over Corregio's early life, to know how many years of arduous study he must have devoted to art before he attained to the perfection which charms us in his pictures.

Corregio never studied from the antique, and was ignorant of the works of his great contemporaries, as he was alike unknown to them. Nature was his guide entirely and alone. He used to say that he had his thoughts at the end of his pencil; and so indeed it seems from his pictures. He excelled in colouring; not gorgeous or dazzling, but sweet, and cool, and harmonious tints. His pictures look as if dipped in the freshness of early dawn. Corregio painted children with surpassing grace and beauty; and his Madonas have an angelic sweetness, which no artist has excelled except Raffaelle. If we may judge of a painter's own disposition by the character stamped upon his works, Corregio must have been most gentle and loveable, with a mind full of everything that is good and beautiful. One can fancy him as a kind father, playing among his children, and catching from them the natural graces which he afterwards fixed impenetrably on his canvas.

Corregio in early life fixed himself at Parma, which city he never left. Rome was then the centre of all that was great in learning and art; but Corregio was too poor to go thither without patronage, and too single-minded to weary himself with seeking that favour of the great, which seldom comes unsought. So he lived in obscurity at Parma, where art was little appreciated, striving hard to gain support for his wife and family. His life and struggles are now forgotten, but they must have been great. Annibal Caracci, who, fifty years after, visited Parma, and saw the works of Antonio, says, "Everything that I see astonishes me, particularly the colouring and beauty of the children, who live, breathe, and smile with so much sweetness and vivacity, that it is impossible to refrain from partaking in their enjoyment. My heart, however, is ready to break when I reflect on the unhappy fate of poor Corregio, and to think that

so wonderful a man, who ought rather to be called an angel, should have ended his days miserably in a country where his talents were never known."

Amidst all these difficulties, and with the cares of a large family, Antonio lived on-indigent, ever-labouring, yet often wanting bread. In these bitter circumstances were most of his pictures executed. We cannot but look with painful interest on these lovely and graceful creations, produced amidst sorrow and poverty. But the sorrow and the poverty are all forgotten now, and the pictures live still; the faces smile upon us, and we never think of the sad heart and wearied hand which conceived and executed them.

which

At last Corregio was chosen by the canons of the cathedral at Parma to paint its cupola in fresco. The subject was the "Assumption of the Virgin." Corregio painted the holy Mary, surrounded by happy spirits and adoring angels; the faces of the heavenly quire glowing with rapturous celestial joy. This was a subject fitted for Corregio's genius: it was his last and his greatest work. The innumerable company of cherubs-some singing, others scattering incense, and all full of holy delightgave an opportunity for the display of that childlike grace was peculiar to Corregio. The picture was wonderful-beautiful! But this was unacknowledged by the mean and cold-hearted dignitaries with whom the artist had to deal. When Corregio came to receive payment for his finished work, that he might joyfully take home the price of his labours to his poverty-stricken family, the canons found fault with the picture, and finally refused to give him more than half of the paltry sum originally promised.

Corregio's necessities were too overpowering to allow him to debate the point. He took the money, which his mean patrons paid all in copper coins. Corregio took the heavy burden on his shoulders. His home was six or eight miles from Parma, and he had to walk that distance under the burning heat of an Italian sun, laden with the weight of the copper, his heart sinking with despondency. He reached his cottage at last, and, thirsty and exhausted, drank plentifully of some water which his children brought. He was immediately seized with a fever, and lay down on his straw-bed, from whence he never rose. In three days Antonio Corregio was no more.

Corregio died in 1534. Not many years after, the great Titian, passing through Parma, heard of the picture in the cathedral, and hastened to look at it. A canon accompanied the illustrious stranger. Seeing Titian gazing fixedly on the painting, the priest hastened to tell him that it was a contemptible work, unworthy his attention, and was about to be destroyed.

"Destroy this picture!" cried the horror-struck artist. "Take care, man-take care what you do! It is a glorious work; and were I not Titian, I would wish to be Corregio!"