mitators missed, were felt intensely by men who never adopted his
mannerisms, and it is in the work of these that the real effect of
Signorelli's influence is to be found. The frescoes of Orvieto never
became, like Masaccio's in the Carmine, a school to which the younger
painters thronged, purposely to learn the methods of the master, but
their impressive grandeur and solemnity, and the breadth of brushwork
and solid modelling by which these qualities were in a great measure
obtained, worked, nevertheless, a very important change in the Art of
the time, and a wave of strong fresh blood was sent through its veins.
Without them, perhaps, we should never have had the same appeal to the
imagination and the nobler instincts in the Sistine paintings, although
there is not in the whole of the work one single mannerism from
Signorelli's style.[93] But what is called the "Terribilita" of the
older master was entirely free from the sombre melancholy which strikes
so gloomy a note in the work of Michelangelo. Signorelli's greatest gift
to us is his conception of humanity, not only of its robust strength,
but of its mental vigour. His figures are solemn, but it is a solemnity
untainted with sadness, conscious only of the dignity of the human race,
its significance and responsibilities.

By his power over his materials, won by hard study, he added much to
Art, and presented things, not as conventional symbols, but as they are
actually reflected on the eye. His people stand on solid ground by the
help of firm muscle, substantial realities that we feel could be touched
and walked round. His atmosphere gives the sense of real space and air.
His trees seem to have roots, and their branches to be full of sap. By
this truth and power of presenting things as they are he was able to
endow his paintings with his own conception of Nature, grander and wider
than our own, and to make us see mankind with his eyes, built on
broader, stronger lines. Nothing trivial or insignificant enters into
his perception of life. He takes his place with Mantegna, with Duerer,
and with Cossa, the austere painters, who felt the dignity of life to
lie in rugged strength, iron resolution, and unflinching
self-reliance.

FOOTNOTES:

[79] "Italian Painters," i. 96.

[80] An attribution of Mr B. Berensen.

[81] See "Commentary on the Life of Bart. della Gatta." Vasari, iii.
227.

[82] Cavalcaselle e Crowe. Transcript of the Document, viii. 537.

[83] Vasari,