Having inserted these notices of ancient painters, and some others, which will be found scattered throughout the work, I turn to Vasari, and to the accusations laid to his charge. He is defended by Monsignor Bottari in a note at the conclusion of the life of Margaritone, taken from Baldinucci. He affirms, from his own observation, "That though each city had some painters, they were all as contemptible and barbarous as Margaritone, who, if compared to Cimabue, is unworthy of the name of painter." The examples already cited do not permit me to assent to this proposition; even Bottari himself will scarcely allow me to do so, as he observes, in another note on the life of Cimabue, "That he was the first who abandoned the manner of the Greeks, or at least who avoided it more completely than any other artist." But if others, such as Guido, Bonaventura, and Giunta, had freed themselves from it before his time, why are they not recorded as the first, in point of time, by Vasari? Did not their example open the new path to Cimabue? Did they not afford a ray of light to reviving art? Were they not in painting what the two Guidos were in poetry, who, however much surpassed by Dante, are entitled to the first place in a history of our poets? Vasari would therefore have acted better had he followed the example of Pliny, who commences with the rude designers, Ardices of Corinth, and Telephanes of Sicyon; he then minutely narrates the invention of Cleophantes the Corinthian, who coloured his designs with burnt earth; next, that of Eumarus the Athenian, who first represented the distinction of age and sex. Then comes that of Cimon of Cleonæ, who first expressed the various attitudes of the head, and aimed at representing the truth, even in the joints of the fingers and the folds of the garments. Thus, the merits of each city, and every artist, appear in ancient history; and it seems to me just, that the same should be done, as far as possible, in modern history. These observations may, at present, suffice in regard to a subject that has been made a source of complaint and dispute among many writers. Nevertheless it cannot be denied that there is no city to which painting is more indebted than to Florence, nor any name more proper to mark an epoch, whatever may be the opinion of Padre della Valle,[43] than that of Cimabue. The artists whom I have before mentioned had few followers; their schools, with the exception of that of Siena, languished, and were either gradually dispersed, or united themselves to that of Florence. This school in a short time eclipsed every other, and has continued to flourish in a proud succession of artists, uninterrupted even down to our own days. Let us then trace it from its commencement.