the Death of the Saint. The imposing form of the Soldan on his throne, under a portico adorned with mosaics and statues, the white turbans and flowing robes of the Moorish priests, the contrast between the ecstatic joy on the face of Francis, as he enters the flames, and the horror and terror, not only of the Magi, but of the poor friar who cowers behind, all help to make up a picturesque and animated scene. We remember how finely Giotto represented the Saint's death in his early days at Assisi. Here the touching incident is still more simply brought before us. There is no crowd of curious spectators—even Chiara and her nuns are absent. All we have is the great Saint lying dead on his funeral bier, surrounded by weeping friars, who bend over their beloved master and cover his hands and feet with kisses. At the head of the bier a priest reads the funeral rite; three brothers stand at the foot bearing a cross and banner, and the incredulous Girolamo puts his finger into the stigmatised side, while his companions gaze on the sacred wounds with varying expressions of awe and wonder, and one, the smallest and humblest of the group, suddenly lifts his eyes and sees the soul of Francis borne on angel-wings to Heaven. Even the hard outlines and coarse handling of the restorer's brush cannot destroy the beauty and pathos of this scene, which still remains without a rival in Florentine art. In later ages more accomplished artists often repeated this composition—Benedetto da Majano carved the subject on the pulpit of Santa Croce, and Ghirlandajo painted it on the walls of the Trinità—but none ever attained to the simple dignity and pathetic beauty of Giotto's design.
