other respects the school appears to have improved, and particularly in treating its history pieces more appropriately, without the introduction of portraits, dresses, and other accessaries, ill adapted to them; a defect to which it had been more attached, and had more obstinately adhered, than any other of the schools. Yet it cannot be denied, that during this period of the decline of art throughout Italy, the Venetian School shone peculiarly conspicuous in the number of superior inventors it produced. For whilst Lower Italy aimed at nothing beyond the striking contrasts of the followers of Cortona; whilst in so many schools of Upper Italy, the imitators of the imitators of the Caracci were esteemed the great models; in Venice, and the adjacent state, various styles were seen to spring up, which, though not perfect, were at least original, and valuable in their way; if, indeed, the whole of Europe has not been deceived in its estimation of them, purchasing the pictures of the Ricci, of Tiepolo, of Canaletto, of Rotari, and of numerous other artists of the same time, at immense sums. But we must take a more particular survey of them. The Cavalier Andrea Celesti, who died in the early part of the century, was disciple to Ponzoni, but without becoming his imitator. As an artist, he is very pleasing, fertile in noble images, flowing in his outlines, with delightful scenery, with airs, with features, and with draperies all graceful, and often resembling Paul Veronese. His style of colouring, also, was not remote from nature, equally lucid, pleasing, and soft. Owing to his fondness for the chiaroscuro, one of the chief attractions of his style, or rather, perhaps, to the imperfection of his grounds, there are few of his productions that continue to preserve their original beauty. Occasionally he seems to belong to the sect of Tenebrosi, and his middle tints have in some instances disappeared, destroying the harmony that in some of his best-conducted pictures was admirable. His distinguishing character was a happy audacity of hand, in which he is excelled by very few. He painted both history, and altarpieces for churches, a specimen of which is seen in his _Probatica_ at the Ascension. In the public palace there is one of his histories from the Old Testament, abounding with all that masterly talent for which he was so remarkable, creating at once admiration and surprise. He produced pieces for private ornament, from profane history, with conversations, games, and rencounters, like Caravaggio's. Alberto Calvetti, an inferior artist, educated in his school, resembles him as little in talent, as, for the most part, in his style.