s the Masaccio, which has a deep, quiet beauty; and beneath it is a
richly coloured predella by Andrea del Sarto, the work of a few hours,
I should guess, and full of spirit and vigour. It consists of four
scriptural scenes which might be called the direct forerunners of
Sir John Gilbert and the modern illustrators. Lastly we have what
is in many ways the most interesting picture in Florence--No. 71,
the Baptism of Christ--for it is held by some authorities to be the
only known painting by Verrocchio, whose sculptures we saw in the
Bargello and at Or San Michele, while in one of the angels--that
surely on the left--we are to see the hand of his pupil Leonardo da
Vinci. Their faces are singularly sweet. Other authorities consider
not only that Verrocchio painted the whole picture himself but that
he painted also the Annunciation at the Uffizi to which Leonardo's
name is given. Be that as it may--and we shall never know--this
is a beautiful thing. According to Vasari it was the excellence
of Leonardo's contribution which decided Verrocchio to give up the
brush. Among the thoughts of Leonardo is one which comes to mind with
peculiar force before this work when we know its story: "Poor is the
pupil who does not surpass his master".

The second Sala di Botticelli has not the value of the first. It
has magnificent examples of Botticelli's sacred work, but the other
pictures are not the equal of those in the other rooms. Chief of the
Botticellis is No. 85, "The Virgin and Child with divers Saints," in
which there are certain annoying and restless elements. One feels that
in the accessories--the flooring, the curtains, and gilt--the painter
was wasting his time, while the Child is too big. Botticelli was seldom
too happy with his babies. But the face of the Saint in green and blue
on the left is most exquisitely painted, and the Virgin has rather less
troubled beauty than usual. The whole effect is not quite spiritual,
and the symbolism of the nails and the crown of thorns held up for
the Child to see is rather too cruel and obvious. I like better the
smaller picture with the same title--No. 88--in which the Saints at
each side are wholly beautiful in Botticelli's wistful way, and the
painting of their heads and head-dresses is so perfect as to fill
one with a kind of despair. But taken altogether one must consider
Botticelli's triumph in the Accademia to be pagan rather than sacred.

No. 8, called officially School of Verrocc