theme than this
of bravery and beauty, youth and fame, immortal honour and untimely
death; nor could any sculptor of death have poetised the theme more
thoroughly than Agostino Busti, whose simple instinct, unlike that of
Michelangelo, led him to subordinate his own imagination to the pathos
of reality.

SARONNO

The church of Saronno is a pretty building with a Bramantesque cupola,
standing among meadows at some distance from the little town. It
is the object of a special cult, which draws pilgrims from the
neighbouring country-side; but the concourse is not large enough to
load the sanctuary with unnecessary wealth. Everything is very quiet
in the holy place, and the offerings of the pious seem to have been
only just enough to keep the building and its treasures of art in
repair. The church consists of a nave, a central cupola, a vestibule
leading to the choir, the choir itself, and a small tribune behind the
choir. No other single building in North Italy can boast so much that
is first-rate of the work of Luini and Gandenzio Ferrari.

The cupola is raised on a sort of drum composed of twelve pieces,
perforated with round windows and supported on four massive piers. On
the level of the eye are frescoes by Luini of S. Rocco, S. Sebastian,
S. Christopher, and S. Antony--by no means in his best style, and
inferior to all his other paintings in this church. The Sebastian,
for example, shows an effort to vary the traditional treatment of this
saint. He is tied in a sprawling attitude to a tree; and little of
Luini's special pathos or sense of beauty--the melody of idyllic grace
made spiritual--appears in him. These four saints are on the piers.
Above are frescoes from the early Bible history by Lanini, painted in
continuation of Ferrari's medallions from the story of Adam expelled
from Paradise, which fill the space beneath the cupola, leading the
eye upward to Ferrari's masterpiece.

The dome itself is crowded with a host of angels singing and playing
upon instruments of music. At each of the twelve angles of the drum
stands a coryphaeus of this celestial choir, full length, with waving
drapery. Higher up, the golden-haired, broad-winged, divine creatures
are massed together, filling every square inch of the vault with
colour. Yet there is no confusion. The simplicity of the selected
motive and the necessities of the place acted like a check on
Ferrari, who, in spite of his dramatic impulse, could not tell a story