after his
death the same offices for the repose of his soul would be performed as if
he had been a true monk.

[Illustration: FIG. 49.--LOWER PART OF A FRESCO BY CORREGGIO.]

The works of Correggio are very rarely sold. The madonna in the National
Gallery, London, known as "_La Vierge au Panier_," was formerly in the
Royal Gallery at Madrid. During the French invasion of Spain, Mr. Wallace,
an English artist, obtained it. It is painted on a panel, and is 13-1/2
inches high by 10 inches wide. In 1813 it was offered for sale in London
at twelve hundred pounds. In 1825 it was sold in Paris for eighty thousand
francs, and soon after sold to the National Gallery for thirty-eight
hundred pounds, or nearly nineteen thousand dollars.

A copy of the "Reading Magdalen" was sold to Earl Dudley for sixteen
hundred pounds, or more than seven thousand dollars.

Correggio had but few pupils, but he had many imitators. The one most
worthy of mention was FRANCESCO MAZZUOLI (1503-1540), called IL
PARMIGIANO, or PARMIGIANINO. He was not a great painter. The "Vision of
St. Jerome," in the National Gallery, London, is one of his best works. It
is said that during the sack of Rome, in 1527, he was painting the figures
of the Virgin and Child in this picture, and was so engrossed by his work
that the invaders entered his studio, and surrounded him before he was
aware of their approach. And they, for their part, were so moved by what
they saw that they went away, and left him undisturbed.

Art writers often use the term "early masters." This denotes Michael
Angelo, Raphael, and other men so great that they were very prominent in
the history of art, and were imitated by so many followers that they had
an unusual effect upon the world. Titian may be called the last of these
great masters of the early school, and his life was so long that he lived
to see a great decline in art.

The painters of the close of the sixteenth century are called
"Mannerists," which means that they adopted or imitated the manner or
style of some great master who had preceded them--and this was done in so
cold and spiritless a way that it may be said that true artistic
inspiration was dead in Italy. No one lived who, out of his own
imagination, could fix upon the wall or the canvas such scenes as would
befit a poet's dream or serve to arouse the enthusiasm of those who saw
the painted story born in the artist's brain.

About 1600, the beginning of the seventeenth