shoulder and lying across her lap, is red, with deep shadows in its
large folds. The back of the seat is covered with a strip of red and
gold embroidery.

The later period of Venetian art is marked by a new ideal of the
Virgin. She is now a magnificent creature of flesh and blood. Her face
is proud and handsome; her figure large, well-proportioned, and
somewhat voluptuous. No Bethlehem stable ever sheltered this haughty
beauty; her home is in kings' palaces; she belongs distinctly to the
realm of wealth and worldliness. She has never known sorrow, anxiety,
or poverty; life has brought her nothing but pleasure and luxury. Her
throne stands no longer in the sacred place of some inner sanctuary,
where angel choristers make music. It is an elevated platform, at one
side of the composition, as in Titian's Pesaro altar-piece, and
Veronese's Madonna in the Venice Academy. This gives an opportunity
for a display of elaborate draperies, such as we may see in Veronese's
picture.

The peculiar qualities of art in Verona and Venice are blended in
Paolo Veronese. No artist ever enjoyed more the splendors of color, or
combined them in more enchanting harmonies. Such gifts transform the
commonest materials, and, though his Virgin is a very ordinary woman,
she has undeniable charms. An oft-copied figure, in this picture, is
that of the little St. John, a universal favorite among child lovers.

[Illustration: VERONESE.--MADONNA AND SAINTS.]

The reader must have remarked that, though the fundamental idea of
the enthroned Madonna is that of queenship, the Virgin wears no crown
in any of the pictures thus far cited; the crowned Madonna is not