and Venice as a centre of literary and artistic activity. The quaint mediæval Palace, with its magnificent fifteenth-century roof, the fine Basilica of S. Antonio and the Cappella di S. Giorgio both adorned with the frescoes of Altichiero and Alvanzo, and, above all, the Cappella di Sta. Maria dell’ Arena, enriched with the wonderful creations of Giotto, must have been to the enthusiastic young painter a source of continual delight as well as a spur to emulation; although as yet Donatello, destined to give to him the final impulse in the right direction, had not come to Padua to put in hand the glorious bas-reliefs of the high altar of S. Antonio, and the even more remarkable bronze equestrian statue of Gattamelata, that was to inaugurate a new departure in modern realistic sculpture.

Of the first meeting between the veteran sculptor, who, on his arrival in Padua in 1443, was in his fifty-eighth year, and the youthful painter there is no record; but there is no doubt that the latter was privileged to watch the growth of the S. Antonio sculptures, and to listen to the discussions concerning them and their author that took place amongst the masters and students in the bottega of Squarcione. From his first appearance on the scene Donatello dominated the art world of the University city, his personality as well as his work everywhere arousing the greatest enthusiasm. So overwhelming indeed were the attentions heaped upon him that he resisted all invitations to remain after he had completed the work he had actually promised to do, and, even before his monumental piece of sculpture was set up, he fled from the atmosphere of adulation in which he lived back to his native Florence, where, to quote his own words, he “got censured continually.” He was still, however, at Padua when, in 1446, Mantegna completed his first independent commission, a “Madonna in Glory” for S. Sofia, now lost, but which is said to have been a wonderful production for a boy still in his teens, clearly betraying the influence both of Donatello and Jacopo Bellini, yet with a marked individuality of its own.

The “Madonna in Glory” is supposed to have been succeeded by other compositions of a similar kind; but the earliest signed work from Andrea’s hand is a fresco, dated 1452, above the central door of S. Antonio, representing Saints Antony and Bernardino holding up a wreath bearing the monogram of Christ. In it, as well as in the polyptych of “St. Luke,” now in the Brera Gallery, Milan,—that betrays a slight affinity with the Vivarini,—the “Presentation in the Temple,” of the Berlin Museum, and the “Adoration of the Magi,” in the collection of Lady Ashburton—all painted between 1452 and 1455—are already noticeable the naturalistic treatment of form, plasticity of modelling, and sombre colouring, that were from first to last characteristic of Mantegna, with a suggestion of the dignified restraint and solemn rhythm of movement, which were later further to distinguish his style. It is, moreover, noticeable that in the two last named, as well as in other early representations of the Virgin and the Holy Child, such as that in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum, Milan, it is the purely human relationship between the loving mother and her helpless little one which is most forcibly brought out, there being absolutely no suggestion of the supernatural. In the “Presentation in the Temple” Mary clings to the Babe as if unwilling to let Him leave her arms for a moment, and in the “Adoration” her face expresses a tender yearning that is infinitely touching; whereas in later Holy Families from the same hand the Infant Jesus becomes ever more and more aloof and dignified, until at last He appears like a young God conscious of His power to save and bless, whilst His mother withdraws into the background.

More important, perhaps, from a technical point of view, than these independent oil-paintings are the series of frescoes in the Eremitani Chapel, in which can be clearly traced the gradual development of Mantegna’s style. In them he for the first time proved himself able successfully to carry out a vast and elaborate scheme of decoration, each composition with its appropriate setting, though complete in itself, contributing to the general effect of the whole. Exactly when the great undertaking was begun is not known, but it is supposed that the commission for it was given to Squarcione about 1452, and its execution entrusted by him to Mantegna, who in 1448 had signed an agreement binding him to the service of his foster-father for a long term of years. In a will dated January 5, 1443, the Chapel of the Eremitani was bequeathed by its then owner, Antonio degli Ovetari, to Jacopo Leone, on condition that after the testator’s death seven hundred golden ducats should be expended on its decoration with scenes from the lives of Saints James and Christopher. The subjects, and possibly also the positions they were to occupy, were thus determined beforehand; and it is evident from internal evidence that not all the frescoes are from Mantegna’s own hand, but his spirit dominates them all, and those for which he is entirely responsible, especially the “St. James led to Execution,” the “Martyrdom” and the “Burial of St. Christopher,” mark a great advance, alike in design and in technical execution, on anything hitherto produced by their author. In the first, Mantegna approached more nearly to Donatello in the expression of movement than he had previously done, and displayed very great skill in concentrating the attention upon the figure of the martyr, who pauses to bless and heal a lame man kneeling at his feet, the soldiers halting to look on, and the spectators turning back to see what delays the procession. The “Martyrdom” and “Burial of St. Christopher” are also strikingly dramatic, giving very vivid presentments of the final scenes in the long-protracted agony of the twice-martyred victim, who was found to be still living after he was supposed to have been shot to death; but, unfortunately, both compositions are so much defaced that it is difficult to form a true idea of what they originally were.

The years during which Mantegna was at work on the Eremitani frescoes, supposed to have been completed in 1455, coincided with the most interesting period of the artist’s life from a personal point of view. In 1453 he became engaged to the only daughter of Jacopo Bellini, Nicolasia, whom he had known since she was a child, and to whom he had long been attached. He was married to her in 1455, and the young couple evidently started life together under very happy auspices; but little is really known either of their courtship or their later experiences. Neither, unfortunately, is it possible to call up with any semblance of reality the personality of the bride, for although she certainly often posed for her father, husband, and brothers, her portrait cannot be identified in any of their compositions. That she was beautiful and charming is generally taken for granted, that she shared the æsthetic faculty with which the other members of her family were so richly endowed is more than probable, and that she was a good wife to Mantegna is incidentally proved by the fact that his money difficulties did not begin till after her death; but that is all that can be gathered concerning her. It is far easier to realise what the bridegroom was like, for Andrea has introduced himself among the spectators in the “Martyrdom of St. Christopher” and in the later “Meeting between Lodovico Gonzaga and his son, Cardinal Francesco,” of the Camera degli Sposi at Mantua, in both of which the painter