Moreover, though Niccola had realized that “art must anchor in nature, or be the sport of every breath of folly,” the conviction was not general. The feeling for the beauties of the natural world was only growing slowly. It came to the flood early in the thirteenth century, and found its most intense expression in the sermons of Francis of Assisi (1182-1226). It is idle to inquire whether the “First of the Friars” taught the world to look once more for the beauties of nature beneath the hard crudities of external phenomena. Certain it is that he was one “Who heard the tale The low wind tells, Who read the rune Of moorland wells.” [Illustration: NICCOLA PISANO THE PULPIT AT PISA] Saint Francis never reached the modern conception of nature as the embodiment of the divine spirit such as is found in the poems of Wordsworth. It could not be said of him “None inlier taught how near to earth is heaven, With what vast concords Nature’s harp is strung.” But his passion for the beauties of nature added a new note to the prevalent interpretation of Scripture. Consciously or unconsciously, it led him to a far more human conception of the Godhead. As a result of the preaching of St. Francis and that of his followers, all Italy clamoured for representations of the Christ and the Saints in the new manner. The demand was first satisfied by the painter Giotto (1266-1337). Under the influence of St. Francis, Giotto translated the new Christian thought and emotion into terms of flesh and blood. He pictured this living reality upon the walls of such a building as the Upper Church at Assisi. He did for Italy what Phidias and Polyclitus did for Greece when they gave material form to the Zeus and Hera of Homer. The sculptor most closely identified with Giotto was Andrea Pisano (1270-1348). A pupil of Giovanni, Andrea carried the principles of sculpture enunciated by Niccola to Florence. The city, at the time, was one of the richest and most enlightened in Italy. It was, moreover, the centre from which the naturalism of Giotto was spreading. Andrea was always greatly influenced by his friend Giotto, and upon the latter’s death carried through the architectural works upon which he was engaged. But the words of Andrea show that Giotto’s influence upon sculpture was not entirely for good. For some time after the great painter’s death a distinctly pictorial character pervaded the works of the Italian sculptors. Andrea Pisano, for instance, himself spent many years in fashioning one of the great bronze doors of the Florentine Baptistery. This contains some of the finest bronze work in the world. Each panel is decorated with a scene from the life of John the Baptist and each tells its story simply and clearly. But it is at once obvious that the ideal at which Andrea was aiming was rather pictorial than sculptural. At his death sculpture was no longer on the free road of progress started by Niccola Pisano.