pidity in reproduction, not clinging rigidly to pure science and severe measure, but substituting for these quickness and spii’it. The same simplicity and tact are preserved in the cen tral episode of the fresco in which S. Philip drives the demon out of the female supported in the arms of her relations; the interest of the spectators in the miracle being well kept up and made evident without coarseness either in attitude or in expression. The applause which these three pieces received encour aged Andrea to proceed, and he at once resumed the brush for the “Death of S. Philip”, and the “Children cured by S. Philip's garment”. The first of these, arranged in a form that was scarcely to be avoided, represents a friar behind a couch, leaning over the prostrate body of the saint, whilst two groups stand on the sides of the foreground. The clergy in rear to the left suspend their chant in order to express their surprise at a wonder occurring before their eyes. A child lies dead on the floor, and revives at the touch of the bier, the two incidents of the death and resurrection being judiciously compressed into one. In this, more than in any other composition of the series, Del Sarto tells of the study which he devoted to Domenico Ghirlandaio not only for the sake of fit distribution, but for the purpose of acquiring a just partition of the masses of light and shade. Nothing can be more clearly demonstrated than this in the head of the friar who leans over S. Philip, where the transitions are given with remarkable force; nor would the fresco as a whole have lost anything had this law of equilibrium been extended with equal impar tiality to the rest of the dramatis personae. But Andrea seems never to have been fully penetrated with the necessity for applying the strict rules of chiaroscuro. Car ried away by his feeling for harmony of colour, and charmed whenever he could realize a vague and vaporous