Luca Signorelli was born at Cortona, and was instructed by Piero della Francesca, whose one Uffizi painting is in a later room.  His chief work is at Cortona, at Rome (in the Sixtine Chapel), and at Orvieto.  His fame was sufficient in Florence in 1491 for him to be made one of the judges of the designs for the facade of the Duomo.  Luca lived to a great age, not dying till 1524, and was much beloved.  He was magnificent in his habits and loved fine clothes, was very kindly and helpful in disposition, and the influence of his naturalness and sincerity upon art was great.  One very pretty sad story is told of him, to the effect that when his son, whom he had dearly loved, was killed at Cortona, he caused the body to be stripped, and painted it with the utmost exactitude, that through his own handiwork he might be able to contemplate that treasure of which fate had robbed him.  Perhaps the most beautiful or at any rate the most idiosyncratic thing in the picture before us is its lovely profusion of wayside flowers.  These come out but poorly in the photograph, but in the painting they are exquisite both in form and in detail.  Luca painted them as if he loved them. (There is a hint of the same thoughtful care in the flowers in No. 1133, by Luca, in our National Gallery; but these at Florence are the best.) No. 74 is in tempera:  the next, also by Luca, No.1291, is in oil, a “Holy Family,” a work at once powerful, rich, and sweet.  Here, again, we may trace an influence on Michelangelo, for the child is shown deprecating a book which his mother is displaying, while in the beautiful marble tondo of the “Madonna and Child” by Michelangelo, which we are soon to see in the Bargello, a reading lesson is in progress, and the child wearying of it.  We find Luca again in the next large picture—­No.1547—­a Crucifixion, with various Saints, done in collaboration with Perugino.  The design suggests Luca rather than his companion, and the woman at the foot of the cross is surely the type of which he was so fond.  The drawing of Christ is masterly and all too sombre for Perugino.  Finally, there is a Luca predella, No. 1298, representing the Annunciation, the Birth of Christ (in which Joseph is older almost than in any version), and the Adoration of the Magi, all notable for freedom and richness.  Note the realism and charm and the costume of the two pages of the Magi.

And now we come to what is perhaps the most lovely picture in the whole gallery, judged purely as colour and sweetness and design—­No.1549—­a “Madonna Adoring,” with Filippino Lippi’s name and an interrogation mark beneath it.  Who painted it if not Filippino?  That is the question; but into such problems, which confront one at every turn in Florence, I am neither qualified nor anxious to enter.  When doctors disagree any one may decide before me.  The thought, moreover, that always occurs in the presence of these good debatable pictures, is that any doubt as to their origin merely enriches this already over-rich period, since some one had to paint them.  Simon not pure becomes hardly less remarkable than Simon pure.