astly his death.

[Illustration: DEATH OF ST. DOMINIC.]

The scene of the resurrection of the young Napoleon, nephew of
Cardinal Stefano de' Ceccani, had been already powerfully depicted by
Traini; in Angelico's hands it comes out restrained and cold, the acts
of amazement in the devotees present at the miracle, who raise their
hands in astonishment, are too conventional: and it is precisely in
the intermingling of these gestures of sorrow for the death, and
wonder for the revivication, that the Pisan artist has brought out his
best effects. As we have before pointed out, the calm spirit of Fra
Angelico avoided realistic representation; his figures always suggest
love, faith and resignation, but are never agitated; like the soul of
their author, they are incapable of violent action; therefore when
these should be drawn, the representation falls below reality. We
shall see instances of this in other works of his.

[Illustration: THE ANNUNCIATION. (Church of Gesu, Cortona.)]

One of Angelico's most familiar subjects was the Annunciation, and the
most interesting of the Cortona pictures, is that of the angel's visit
to Mary. Its motive is simple and clear, as it was transmitted from
early Christian art; the general lines are unchanged, but the
expression greatly so. Fra Angelico did not disturb the religious
solemnity of the apparition with useless accessories; faithful to his
own sentiment, he has clothed Mary with humility. She sits beneath the
portico, the book neglected on her lap, her hands crossed, and her
drooping head inclined towards the heavenly messenger. The
golden-winged angel with roseate robe also bends before the Virgin,
the right hand pointing to her breast and the left to the dove which
sheds celestial rays on Mary's head. In the background Adam and Eve
are being expelled from the terrestrial Paradise, symbol of the
ancient Christian legend which directly connects the story of original
sin with that of the Redemption.

This mystic subject, which does not lack grace and freshness in the
Cortona painting, finds its fuller development in San Marco at
Florence. Here the Madonna is seated on a wooden stool, her head
projected forward almost in ecstasy, with hands clasped on her breast,
and in similar attitude the angel half kneels before her. The scene
takes place before a little grated window in the colonnade of a
cloister, utterly bare of ornament, but in this very simplicity lies
all the charm and poe