character which would endear him to all. He would
not inspire awe like the St. John or indifference
like St. Peter. He is a very simple, lovable person
whose rebuke would be gentle and whose counsel would
be wise. In 1408 the
Linaiuoli, the guild
of linen-weavers, gave their order to select the marble,
and in 1411 the commission was given to Donatello,
having been previously given to Niccolo d’Arezzo,
who himself became one of Donatello’s guarantors.
The work had to be finished within eighteen months,
and the heavy statue was to be placed in the niche
at the sculptor’s own risk. The statement
made by Vasari that Brunellesco co-operated on the
St. Mark is not borne out by the official documents.
It is interesting to note that the guild gave Donatello
the height of the figure, leaving him to select the
corresponding proportions. The statue was to
be gilded and decorated.[33] A further commission
was given to two stone-masons for the niche, which
was to be copied from that of Ghiberti’s St.
Stephen. These niches have been a good deal altered
in recent times, and the statues are in consequence
less suited to their environment than was formerly
the case. Judging from the plates in Lasinio’s
book, the accuracy of which has not been contested,
it appears that the niches of St. Eligius and St.
Mark have been made more shallow, while the crozier
of the former and the key in St. Peter’s hand
are not shown at all, and must be modern restorations.
[Footnote 30: Cinelli ed., p. 66.]
[Footnote 31: Bocchi, 1765 ed., p. 128.]
[Footnote 32: Spira il volto divozione e Santita,
Cinelli, p. 66.]
[Footnote 33: Gualandi, “Memorie,”
Series 4, p. 106.]
* * * *
*
[Sidenote: St. Louis.]
The St. Louis is made of bronze. The reputation
of this admirable figure has been prejudiced by a
ridiculous bit of gossip seriously recorded by Vasari,
to the effect that, having been reproached for making
a clumsy figure, Donatello replied that he had done
so with set purpose to mark the folly of the man who
exchanged the crown for a friar’s habit.
Vasari had to enliven his biographies by anecdotes,
and their authenticity was not always without reproach.
In view of his immense services to the history of
art one will gladly forgive these pleasantries; but
it is deplorable when they are solemnly quoted as
infallible. One author says: “... impossibile
a guardare quel goffo e disgraziato San Lodovico senza
sentire una stretta al cuore.” This
is preposterous. The statue has faults, but they
do not spring from organic error. The Bishop
is overweighted with his thick vestments, and his
mitre is rather too broad for the head; the left hand,
moreover, is big and Donatellesque. But the statue,
now placed high above the great door of Santa Croce,
is seen under most unfavourable conditions, and would
look infinitely better in the low niche of Or San
Michele. Its proportions would then appear less