reported to have worked in the Cathedral in 1259. Intarsia was
also made in Orvieto at this time. Vasari did not hold the art in
high estimation, saying that it was practised by "those persons who
possessed more patience than skill in design," and I confess to a
furtive concurrence in Vasari's opinion. He criticizes it a little
illogically, however, when he goes on to say that the "work soon
becomes dark, and is always in danger of perishing from the worms
and by fire," for in these respects it is no more perishable than
any great painting on canvas or panel. Vasari always is a little
extreme, as we know.

The earliest Italian workers took a solid block of wood, chiselled
out a sunken design, and then filled in the depression with other
woods. The only enemy to such work was dampness, which might loosen
the glue, or cause the small thin bits to swell or warp. The glue
was applied always when the surfaces were perfectly clean, and
the whole was pressed, being screwed down on heated metal plates,
that all might dry evenly.

In 1478 there were thirty-four workshops of intarsia makers in
Florence. The personal history of several of the Italian workers
in inlay is still available, and, as it makes a craft seem much
more vital when the names of the craftsmen are known to us, it
will be interesting to glance at a few names of prominent artists
in this branch of work. Bernardo Agnolo and his family are among
them; and Domenico and Giovanni Tasso were wood-carvers who worked
with Michelangelo. Among the "Novelli," there is a quaint tale
called "The Fat Ebony Carver," which is interesting to read in this
connection.

Benedetto da Maiano, one of the "most solemn" workers in intarsia in
Florence, became disgusted with his art after one trying experience,
and ever after turned his attention to other carving. Vasari's
version of the affair is as follows. Benedetto had been making
two beautiful chests, all inlaid most elaborately, and carried
them to the Court of Hungary, to exhibit the workmanship. "When
he had made obeisance to the king, and had been kindly received,
he brought forward his cases and had them unpacked... but it was
then he discovered that the humidity of the sea voyage had softened
the glue to such an extent that when the waxed cloths in which
the coffers had been wrapped were opened, almost all the pieces
were found sticking to them, and so fell to the ground! Whether
Benedetto stood amazed and confounded at su