ooked on the blue hills and the calm
sky, and thanked God Italy was his home.

The mode of living adopted within the cells and refectory of Sant'
Isidoro naturally savoured of the monastic: it combined appropriately
society with solitude. The habit of the Brethren was to take meals
together at a common table, and to work separately each in his private
painting-room. The refectory served as a common hall for study and for
drawing from the model. The rule obtained in the establishment that the
provisioning and housekeeping should be taken in rotation by each, one
week at a time, and it is said that Overbeck had so far a sense of
creature comforts that he complained that one of the Brothers was
accustomed to put too much water into the broth! On Sundays the work
relaxed or ceased wholly, and the wholesome practice prevailed of
bringing together the products of the week for criticism with the end to
mutual improvement: many grave observations and lively pleasantries
passed from one to the other, Overbeck usually in his modest way acting
the part of mentor. "No one," writes Schadow, "who saw or heard him
speak, could question his purity of motive, his deep insight and
abounding knowledge: he is a treasury of art and poetry and a saintly
man." Overbeck had stoutly defended the adopted course of study which
others condemned. "What," he asked, "has been our crime? It is in great
measure that we have striven after a severe outline, in opposition to
the loose, cloudy, washed-out manner of the day. Is not this an
endeavour after truth?" But such studies, while filling portfolios,
brought no grist to the mill. And the historian Niebuhr, an anxious
friend, confesses that these devoted men "were hard put to it for their
daily bread," yet never has a confraternity of artists more nearly
approached an ideal. No vow was actually taken, the bond was simply
voluntary; thus Overbeck expressly states, "with the greatest concord
among us as to the fundamental principles of art, each goes on his own
way."

The attitude assumed almost of necessity provoked opposition, even
ridicule. The assumption was made of superiority, the tone grew even
assailant; Correggio, Guido, Guercino, and Domenichino, with all
post-Raphaelites, were denounced, and not only was it declared, "We are
right," but it was added, "You are wrong." The Brethren personally laid
themselves open to attack; they were not free from the affectations of
youth, they made themselve