I proved to you, in a former
lecture, that the old tradition was true, and the delight of the people
unquestionable. But that delight was not merely in the revelation of an
art they had not known how to practise; it was delight in the
revelation of a Madonna whom they had not known how to love.
Again; what was revelation to _them_--we suppose farther and as
unwisely, to have been only art in _him_; that in better laying of
colours,--in better tracing of perspectives--in recovery of principles,
of classic composition--he had manufactured, as our Gothic Firms now
manufacture to order, a Madonna--in whom he believed no more than they.
Not so. First of the Florentines, first of European men--he attained in
thought, and saw with spiritual eyes, exercised to discern good from
evil,--the face of her who was blessed among women; and with his
following hand, made visible the Magnificat of his heart.
He magnified the Maid; and Florence rejoiced in her Queen. But it was
left for Giotto to make the queenship better beloved, in its sweet
humiliation.
You had the Etruscan stock in Florence--Christian, or at least semi-
Christian; the statue of Mars still in its streets, but with its
central temple built for Baptism in the name of Christ. It was a race
living by agriculture; gentle, thoughtful, and exquisitely fine in
handiwork. The straw bonnet of Tuscany--the Leghorn--is pure Etruscan
art, young ladies:--only plaited gold of God's harvest, instead of the
plaited gold of His earth.
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