ed with applause. When it
was related as a wonder that Giordano painted with his fingers, no
Angelo was found to observe, "Why does not the blockhead use his brush."
That Giordano was a man of genius, there can be no doubt, but had he
executed only a tenth part of the multitude he did, his fame would have
been handed down to posterity with much greater lustre. Cean Bermudez
says of his works in Spain, "He left nothing that is absolutely bad, and
nothing that is perfectly good." His compositions generally bear the
marks of furious haste, and they are disfigured in many cases by
incongruous associations of pagan mythology with sacred history, and of
allegory with history, a blemish on the literature as well as the art of
the age. Bermudez also accuses him of having corrupted and degraded
Spanish art, by introducing a new and false style, which his great
reputation and royal favoritism, brought into vogue. Still, he deserves
praise for the great facility of his invention, the force and richness
of his coloring, and a certain grandeur of conception and freedom of
execution which belong only to a great master. The royal gallery at
Madrid possesses no less than fifty-five of his pictures, selected from
the multitude he left in the various royal palaces. There are also many
in the churches. Lanzi says, "Naples abounds with the works of Giordano,
both public and private. There is scarcely a church in this great city
which does not boast some of his works."

REMARKABLE INSTANCE OF GIORDANO'S RAPIDITY OF EXECUTION.

Giordano, on his return to Naples from Florence, established himself in
Ribera's fine house, opposite the Jesuit's church of S. Francesco
Xavier. In 1685 he was commissioned by the Fathers to paint a large
picture for one of the principal altars, and agreed that it should be
completed by the approaching festival of the patron saint. Giordano,
having other engagements on hand, put off the execution of the
altar-piece so long, that the Jesuits began to be clamorous, and at
length appealed to the Viceroy to exercise his authority. Determined to
see for himself how matters stood, that great man paid an unexpected
visit to Giordano's studio. The painter had barely time to escape by a
back door to avoid his wrath, when the Marquess de Heliche entered, who
perceiving that he had not touched the vast canvas with his brush, as
suddenly retired, muttering imprecations and menaces. Luca's dashing
pencil now stood him in good