GIOTTO.

57

which remain to us, and recognise in them the
dawn of that splendour which reached its zenith in
the beginning of the sixteenth century: while to
the philosophic observer Giotto appears as one of
those few heaven-endowed beings, whose develop-
ment springs from a source within—one of those
unconscious instruments in the hand of Providence,
who, in seeking their own profit and delight through
the expansion of their own faculties, make unawares
a step forward in human culture, lend a new im-
pulse to human aspirations, and, like the “ bright
morning star, day’s harbinger,” may be merged in
the succeeding radiance, but never forgotten.
Before we pass on to the scholars and imitators
of Giotto, who during the next century filled all
Italy with schools of art, we may here make men-
tion of one or two of his contemporaries, not so
much for any performances left behind them, but
because they have been commemorated by men
more celebrated than themselves, and survive em-
balmed in their works as “ flies in amber.” Dante
has mentioned, in his ‘ Purgatorio,’ two painters of
the time, famous for their miniature illustrations of
Missals and MSS. Before the invention of print-
ing, and indeed for some time after, this was an
important branch of art: it flourished from the
days of Charlemagne to those of Charles V., and
was a source of honour as well as riches to the lay-
men who practised it. Many, however, of the most