to Giorgione, to the over-painted half-length Judith in the Querini-Stampalia Collection at Venice, and to Hollar’s print after a picture supposed by the engraver to give the portrait of Giorgione himself in the character of David, the slayer of Goliath.[26] The sumptuous but much-injured Vanitas, which is No. 1110 in the Alte Pinakothek of Munich—­a beautiful woman of the same opulent type as the Herodias, holding a mirror which reflects jewels and other symbols of earthly vanity—­may be classed with the last-named work.  Again we owe it to Morelli[27] that this painting, ascribed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle—­as the Herodias was ascribed—­to Pordenone, has been with general acceptance classed among the early works of Titian.  The popular Flora of the Uffizi, a beautiful thing still, though all the bloom of its beauty has been effaced, must be placed rather later in this section of Titian’s life-work, displaying as it does a technique more facile and accomplished, and a conception of a somewhat higher individuality.  The model is surely the same as that which has served for the Venus of the Sacred and Profane Love, though the picture comes some years after that piece.  Later still comes the so-called Alfonso d’Este and Laura Dianti, as to which something will be said farther on.  Another puzzle is provided by the beautiful “Noli me tangere” of the National Gallery, which must necessarily have its place somewhere here among the early works.  Giorgionesque the picture still is, and most markedly so in the character of the beautiful landscape; yet the execution shows an altogether unusual freedom and mastery for that period.  The Magdalen is, appropriately enough, of the same type as the exquisite, golden blond courtezans—­or, if you will, models—­who constantly appear and reappear in this period of Venetian art.  Hardly anywhere has the painter exhibited a more wonderful freedom and subtlety of brush than in the figure of the Christ, in which glowing flesh is so finely set off by the white of fluttering, half-transparent draperies.  The canvas has exquisite colour, almost without colours; the only local tint of any very defined character being the dark red of the Magdalen’s robe.  Yet a certain affectation, a certain exaggeration of fluttering movement and strained attitude repel the beholder a little at first, and neutralise for him the rare beauties of the canvas.  It is as if a wave of some strange transient influence had passed over Titian at this moment, then again to be dissipated.

[Illustration:  Madonna and Child, with St. John and St. Anthony Abbot.  Uffizi Gallery, Florence.  From a Photograph by Brogi.]