in the form of the Ascending Lord, borne upwards by some unseen might into the heavens, which open to receive him.
When we look back on the whole series, perhaps what strikes us most is the simplicity and directness with which the story is told. Not a single superfluous actor is introduced. Each has his part to play in the development of the situation. Each line is charged with purpose, each gesture and attitude is significant. Especially noteworthy is the action of the hands, which are as expressive and characteristic in Giotto's works as in those of another great Florentine of a later age, Leonardo da Vinci. The setting of the picture is of the simplest description. The gold background of Byzantine masters has given place to blue sky—now, alas! coarsely repainted—and both landscape and architecture are slight and summary in treatment. The hill-country of Bethlehem is indicated by a few green slopes and trees, and the dramatic effect of the Baptism and Entombment is heightened by the bare and desolate rocks of the landscape. A house is represented by a wooden roof resting on a couple of slender pillars, and an open loggia with pointed arches. A ciborium, with a flight of steps and marble screen, does duty for the temple. Here and there, as in the Annunciation or Expulsion from the Temple, the architectural details are more elaborate, and, as at Assisi, Gothic and classical motives are frequently introduced in the same building. The animals are, for the most part, curiously ill-drawn and out of proportion, and were probably the work of an assistant. Flat tints are employed throughout, and there is little attempt at
