2.  In a very fine example by Ghirlandajo, St. Dominick and St. Peter Martyr are conspicuous:  painted, of course, for the Dominicans.  (Paris, Louvre.)

3.  In another, by Pinturicchio, St. Francis is a principal figure, with St. Bonaventura and St. Louis of Toulouse; painted for the Franciscans, or at least for a Franciscan pope, Sixtus IV. (Rome, Vatican.)

4.  In another, by Guido, the treatment differs from the early style.  The coronation above is small and seen as a vision; the saints below, St. Bernard and St. Catherine, are life-size.  It was painted for a community of Bernardines, the monks of Monte Oliveto. (Bologna, Gal.)

5.  In a beautiful little altar-piece by Lorenzo di Credi[1], the Virgin is kneeling above, while Christ, seated, places the crown on her head.  A glory of red seraphim surround the two figures.  Below are the famous patron saints of Central Italy, St. Nicholas of Bari and St. Julian of Rimini, St. Barbara and St. Christina.  The St. Francis and St. Antony, in the predella, show it to have been painted for a Franciscan church or chapel, probably for the same church at Cestello for which Lorenzo painted the St. Julian and St. Nicholas now in the Louvre.

[Footnote 1:  Once in the collection of Mr. Rogers; v.  “Sacred and Legendary Art.”]

The “Coronation of the Virgin” by Annibale Carracci is in a spirit altogether different, magnificently studied.[1] On high, upon a lofty throne which extends across the whole picture from side to side, the Virgin, a noble majestic creature, in the true Carracci style, is seated in the midst as the principal figure, her hands folded on her bosom.  On the right hand sits the Father, on the left the Son; they hold a heavenly crown surmounted by stars above her head.  The locality is the Empyreum.  The audience consists of angels only, who circle within circle, filling the whole space, and melting into an abyss of light, chant hymns of rejoicing and touch celestial instruments of music.  This picture shows how deeply Annibale Carracci had studied Correggio, in the magical chiaro-oscuro, and the lofty but somewhat mannered grace of the figures.

[Footnote 1:  This was also in the collection of Mr. Rogers.]

One of the latest examples I can point to is also one of the most simple and grand in conception. (Madrid Gal.) It is that by Velasquez, the finest perhaps of the very few devotional subjects painted by him.  We have here the three figures only, as large as life, filling the region of glory, without angels, witnesses, or accessories of any kind, except the small cherubim beneath; and the symmetrical treatment gives to the whole a sort of sublime effect.  But the heads have the air of portraits:  Christ has a dark, earnest, altogether Spanish physiognomy; the Virgin has dark hair; and the Padre Eterno, with a long beard, has a bald head,—­a gross fault in taste and propriety; because, though the loose beard and flowing white hair may serve to typify the “Ancient of Days,” baldness expresses not merely age, but the infirmity of age.