Before quitting the subject of the “Madonna and Child,” another example may be alluded to, about which it would be unwise to express any decided opinion founded only on a study of the photograph.  This is a picture at St. Petersburg, to which Mr. Claude Phillips first directed attention,[131] stating his then belief that it might be a genuine Giorgione.  After a recent visit to St. Petersburg, however, he has seen fit to register it as a probable copy after a lost original by the master, on the ground that “it is not fine enough in execution."[132] This, as I have often pointed out, is a dangerous test to apply in Giorgione’s case, and so the authenticity of this “Madonna” may still be left an open question.

Finally, in the category of Sacred Art come two well-known pictures, both in public galleries, and both accredited to Giorgione.  The first is the “Christ and the Adulteress” of the Glasgow Gallery, the second the “Madonna and Saints” of the Louvre.  Many diverse opinions are held about the Glasgow picture; some ascribe it to Cariani, others to Campagnola.  It is asserted by some that the same hand painted the Kingston Lacy “Judgment of Solomon,” but that it is not the hand of Giorgione, and finally—­to come to the view which I believe is the correct one—­Dr. Bode and Sir Walter Armstrong[133] both believe that Giorgione is the painter.

[Illustration:  Hanfstaengl photo.  Glasgow Gallery THE ADULTERESS BEFORE CHRIST]

The whole difficulty, as it seems to me, arises from the deep-rooted misapprehension in the minds of most critics of the character of Giorgione’s art.  In their eyes, he is something so perfect as to be incapable of producing anything short of the ideal.  He could never have drawn so badly, he never could have composed so awkwardly, he never could have been so inexpressive!—­such is the usual criticism.  I have elsewhere insisted upon the unevenness which invariably characterises the productions of men who are gifted with a strong artistic temperament, and in Giorgione’s case, as I believe, this is particularly true.  The Glasgow picture is but one instance of many where, if correctness of drawing, perfection of composition, and inevitableness of expression are taken as final tests, the verdict must go against the painter.  He either failed in these cases to come up to the standard reached elsewhere, or he is not the painter.  Modern negative criticism generally adopts the latter solution, with the result that not a score of pictures pass muster, and the virtues of these chosen few are so extolled as to make it all but impossible to see the reverse of the medal.  But those who accept the “Judith” at St. Petersburg, the Louvre “Concert,” the Beaumont “Adoration of the Shepherds” (to name only three examples where the drawing is strange), cannot consistently object to admit the Glasgow “Christ and the Adulteress” into the fold.  Nay, if gorgeousness of colour, splendour of glow, mastery of chiaroscuro, and brilliancy of technique are qualities which go to make up great painting, then the Glasgow picture must take high rank, even in a school where such qualities found their grandest expression.