In the same style as this “Pietà,” but with more attempt at decorative effect, is the picture exhibited by Sir William Abdy, in the last winter exhibition at Burlington House (1880-81). Here the dead Christ lies on a carved throne of coloured marbles, the back of which is formed by the broken tables of the law. On either side are two grandly defined forms of Isaiah and Jerome, as representatives of the old and new dispensations, between whom Christ stands. The background is more elaborate than usual. On one side is a wild tract of mountainous country, on the other a river and fertile valley, along the slopes of which we see rows of smiling villages, church-towers, and fields enclosed with hedges. In the foreground skulls and bones are scattered at the feet of the prophets, and beasts and birds of gay plumage enliven the scene. A stag and panther and a red parrot are prominent figures, but all these minor details are subdued to the leading idea in the painter’s mind. Doubts have been entertained as to the authorship of the picture, but both its general style and colouring and the presence of that weird grandeur of imagination peculiar to Mantegna are strong proofs of its genuineness. [Illustration] CHAPTER III. THE CAMERA DEGLI SPOSI, A.D. 1470-1474. Recent research has brought to light a series of valuable letters between the Gonzagas and Mantegna, which tell us little indeed about his existing works, but much that is of the deepest interest concerning his private life, and especially his relations with Lodovico and his family. The Marquis had kept his word and proved himself a true friend and generous patron to the Paduan artist. _Carissmé noster_, _dilecte noster_, are the terms in which he always addresses him, and the thoughtful consideration and patience with which he treated Andrea in what must frequently have been very trying circumstances, are beyond all praise. The first letter of the series is a complaint which the painter, writing from Goïto, addresses to Lodovico, saying that his stipend is irregularly paid, a wrong which the Marquis promptly redressed. Three years later we find him in the same liberal spirit advancing one hundred ducats which Mantegna begged in order to decorate and improve his house in Mantua. There our painter spent the winter with his wife and three children—_tutto la mia brigatela_ he calls them in a letter to the Marquis—and each year, when the summer heats returned, he moved to a country-house at Buscoldo, where he afterwards received a grant of land from his patron.