. Earthwork out of Tuscany. r-Potter,for that matter)—and fine art, whereby thewayside shrine is linked to the high altar,and coiifadiiio and Vicar-Apostolic can haila common ideal. Every lane, every cot-tage, has its Madonna-shrine here ; lumpedin clay or daubed in raw colour, nothingcan obliterate the sweet sentiment of thesepoor weeds of art, these tawdry little ap-peals to the better part of us. Madonnacries with a bared red heart ; she supportsa white Christ ; she stoops suave to enfolda legion of children in her mantle. She isas Tuscan as the brownest of them ; but aTuscan of the rarest
. Earthwork out of Tuscany. r-Potter,for that matter)—and fine art, whereby thewayside shrine is linked to the high altar,and coiifadiiio and Vicar-Apostolic can haila common ideal. Every lane, every cot-tage, has its Madonna-shrine here ; lumpedin clay or daubed in raw colour, nothingcan obliterate the sweet sentiment of thesepoor weeds of art, these tawdry little ap-peals to the better part of us. Madonnacries with a bared red heart ; she supportsa white Christ ; she stoops suave to enfolda legion of children in her mantle. She isas Tuscan as the brownest of them ; but aTuscan of the rarest mould, they would 203 EARTHWORK OUT OF TUSCANY: have you to see, of a cleanliness quite un-approachable, of a benignity wholly learns the secret of devotional art bestof all in such ephemeral sanctuaries. Andsince Fine Art is the flower of these shabbyroots, Italy only, where Cincinnatus workedin his garden, can furnish so wonderful aharmony of opposites. Surely it is themost democratic country in Europe. I saw. a Colonel the other day, in Bologna, carry-ing a newspaper parcel. He was in fulluniform. It was the secret of Saint Francisthat he knew how to bridge the gulf oneither side of which we, prisoners in feu-dal holds, have cried to each other in was the secret of the Delia Robbia god shall sink that we may rise tomeet him in the way. Why Here204 WITH THE BKOVVN BEAR in Pistoja are some precious pieces—a K/5-itation in San Giovanni, a pearly MadonuaIncoroiiata on the big door of San Giacopo,concerning which it would be dilTicull toaccount to ones self for the added zestgiven by the mantle of fine dust which hassettled down on the pale folds of thedrapery and outlined the square blue panelsof the background. After all, is it not onemore touch of the hedgerow, a symbol ofthe hedgerow-faith not quite dead in thebyways of Italy ? But 1 know I shall never convey the spon-taneity with which Fra Paolinos yisitationstrikes quick for the heart. T
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