Before proceeding further, it becomes our historical duty, having here mentioned his imperfect works, to inform the reader of the real sense in which the words are to be taken when applied to Vinci. It is certain he left a number of works only half finished, such as his Epiphany, in the ducal gallery at Florence, or his Holy Family, in the archbishop's palace at Milan. Most frequently, however, the report is grounded upon his having left some portion of his pieces less perfectly finished than the rest; a deficiency, nevertheless, that cannot always be detected even by the best judges. The portrait, for instance, of M. Lisa Gioconda, painted at Florence in the period of four years, and then, according to Vasari, left imperfect, was minutely examined by Mariette, in the collection of the king of France, and was declared to be carried to so high a degree of finish, that it was impossible to surpass it. The defect will be more easily recognized in other portraits, several of which are yet to be seen at Milan; for instance, that of a lady belonging to the Sig. Principe Albani; and one of a man, in the Palazzo Scotti Gallerati. Indeed Lomazzo has remarked, that, excepting three or four, he left all the rest of his heads imperfect. But imperfections and faults like his would have been accounted distinguishing qualities in almost any other artist. Even his grand Supper has been stated in history as an imperfect production, though at the same time all history is agreed in celebrating it as one of the most beautiful paintings that ever proceeded from the hand of man. It was painted for the refectory of the Dominican fathers, at Milan, and may be pronounced a compendium not only of all that Lionardo taught in his books, but also of what he embraced in his studies. He here gave expression to the exact point of time best adapted to animate his history, which is the moment when the redeemer addresses his disciples, saying, "One of you will betray me." Then each of his innocent followers is seen to start as if struck with a thunderbolt; those at a distance seem to interrogate their companions, as if they think they must have mistaken what he had said; others, according to their natural disposition, appear variously affected; one of them swoons away, one stands lost in astonishment, a third rises in indignation, while the very simplicity and candour depicted upon the countenance of a fourth, seem to place him beyond the reach of suspicion. But Judas instantly draws in his countenance, and while he appears as it were attempting to give it an air of innocence, the eye rests upon him in a moment as the undoubted traitor. Vinci himself used to observe, that for the space of a whole year, he employed his time in meditating how he could best give expression to the features of so bad a heart; and that being accustomed to frequent a place where the worst characters were known to assemble, he there met with a physiognomy to his