display on the part of the painter. Of his character and expression of countenance, we have already spoken. By the way-we have acquiesced in calling this female saint, Catherine, not thinking it worth while to dispute the matter: we should else have inclined to call her Cecilia-that sainted musician of Italy; and to suppose the painter intended we should understand her as having descended from the group of celestial choristers, to impart the necessary degree of religious assurance, to humble the polemic pride of St. Augustine, and preserve harmony between the daring bishop and his powerful little monitor of the ladle. Even as it is, the former seems quite sufficiently disposed to start into controversy. But we do not see why else Cecilia should not have been among the blessed musicians in heaven; nor why either of these saints should have been sent down to earth. Further: St. Catherine is usually (almost invariably) denoted by the introduction of a portion, at least, of the wheel on which she suffered martyrdom.

The Madonna herself, who sits above the clouds regarding with serene and benignant interest the proceedings of St. Augustine, is more perfectly divine than any other personage in the picture possesses more of that ineffable cast of countenance which we so justly admire in the best of the Madonnas of Raphael. It is indeed one of those faces of purity, which it is a solace from the cares of life to look at, and which teaches us that pictures, as Addison has said of books,

are fair Virtue's advocates and friends."

The Holy Family are of colossal dimensions, as

compared with the chorus or band of angels, who are performing for their regalement, or in the delight of angelic duty, a celestial concert. The whole of this heavenly group is supported by a volume or stratum, of clouds, so thin that it would require the cessation of gravitation, or at least a reasonable share of faith, to believe it could support them-throne, paraphernalia, canopy of green and gold, musical instruments, and all. But as the entire composition is but a dream, there is nothing to be objected to, and no more to be said. Improbability is here admissible, or to be tolerated; and, as Mr. Ottley has remarked, "it would be unreasonable to censure the painter's disregard of laws to which he did not consider himself amenable." In short, Benvenuto had here to paint the Dream of a Saint; and the dream of a saint of the fourth century of the Christian era, he has here ably painted.

The draperies are cast in an excellent taste; particularly those of St. Mary, and the rich crimson mantle, and delicate under-vest of St. Augustine. The blandishments of chiaroscuro, and the judicious melting together of certain parts of a picture, in order to give greater eclât to others, was at the early period, in which Tisio lived, not felt or understood-excepting, indeed, by Coreggio, whose example was not yet influential. Hence the attention of him, who critically regards the present picture, is at first too strongly attracted toward the cutting lines which terminate the masses of shadow in no very agreeable shapes, and deteriorate the effect; but this gradually goes off as he continues to gaze, and the beauties and merits of the performance, which are very considerable, steal over his mind.

In Italy, this Vision of St. Augustine was thought to be the finest cabinet picture, from the pencil of Garofalo, that was any where to be seen: and Mr. Carr thought himself happy in the opportunity of purchasing it, during the revolutionary troubles, from the Corsini Collection.

THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

ANGIOLO BRONZINO.

THAT Bronzino was one of the elders in Art, the eye of the connoisseur will easily discover in the primitive style of the present portrait. He was born at Florence in the year 1511, and studied under Pontormo, whose style, precepts, and manner, he so closely followed, that their works are sometimes mistaken for those of each other. At the time of his decease, Pontormo was painting the interior of the chapel of St, Lorenzo, in his native city; and Bronzino was held in such estimation, even in his youth, that the grand duke immediately appointed him to succeed his master in the completion of that work.

Bronzino painted the portraits of many of his distinguished contemporaries, amongst whom were the Doge Andrea Doria, Dante, Boccacio, Petrarch, and most of the illustrious house of de Medici, of whom it is more than possible that the female before us may be one: but he painted history as well as portraits, and sometimes luxuriated in the poetry of painting. One of the most celebrated of his performances, is an allegorical Venus, which is probably still at Florence, wherein he has represented the Goddess embracing Cupid, attended by mirthful

Loves; but attended also by Fraud, Jealousy, and other concomitant evils.

Pilkington says, that "his works at Florence, Pesaro, and Pisa, bear lasting testimony to his merits; nor was he less esteemed and respected for his amiable qualities, than for his professional talents. His taste of design was grand; his pencil neat, but free; his colouring resembled that of Pontormo; and in his draperies he imitated the manner of Michael Angelo Buonaroti. He died in the year 1580."

These encomiums seem to belong to an artist of somewhat higher attainments than would seem to appertain to the painter of the present portrait: but it is perhaps an early work. One of the first expedients in painting; one of the most artless, and obvious, and immature, rules of Art, is to relieve light from dark, and bring dark off light, with little coquetry or address; and, as Mr. Ottley has observed of the present picture, "The green curtain, forming the back-ground, is so managed-according to the old Florentine system of effect, that the light part comes behind the dark side of the head, and vice versa." Yet this portrait reaches quite up to the mark of Lanzi's estimate of Bronzino's merits as a painter of portraits. "Many of his portraits (says this intelligent writer) are in Italian collections, which are praiseworthy for their truth and spirit: but their character is frequently diminished by the colour of the flesh, which sometimes partakes of a leaden hue, and at others appears of a dead white, on which the red appears like rouge. But a yellowish tint is the predominant colour in his pictures, and his greatest fault is, a want of relief." The great

faults of the present work are, that the shadows are too brown, and too dark.

The nameless Lady-we wish (by the way) my Lord Aberdeen, or some other senator of known taste for the Fine Arts, would bring a bill into parliament, compelling portrait painters to write their names, and the names of those whom they portray, on the backs, or somewhere about their pictures, for the benefit of posterity-The nameless Lady, is dressed in white, now somewhat soiled by the wear, with red sleeves, and puffed up and puckered shoulder pieces, which look as preposterous as our modern ladies' sleeves will appear to future ages. She wears a bead necklace, and her dark brown hair appears beneath a sort of close, Venetian, rolled up, turban, simple in form, but richly broidered; and her full bosom seems by no means pleasurably compressed by old fashioned stays.

There is something fine about the face of this Florentine Lady, and seeming to betoken that she belongs to the Bocaccio coterie. It has been called pretty;" but it is too grave and sedate, we think, for the correct applicability of the epithet. It is tranquil and mild in character, and in its pictorial treatment somewhat resembles the heads from the pencil of Leonardo da Vinci, though with rather more of obscurity, and less reflex light in the shadows. In this latter quality it is sadly deficient, and its shadows are obviously too brown. The picture is from the Collection of the Duca de San Vitali of Parma, and was bequeathed to our National Gallery by the Rev, Holwell Carr,