Galileo by Sustermans—­No. 163—­on the contrary would be from life; and after the Tribuna portrait of Rubens’ first wife it is interesting to find here his pleasant portrait of Helen Fourment, his second.  To my eyes two of the most attractive pictures in the room are the Young Sculptor—­No. 1266—­by Bronzino, and the version of Leonardo’s S. Anne at the Louvre by Andrea Salaino of Milan (1483?-1520?).  I like also the hints of tenderness of Bernardino Luini which break through the hardness of the Aurelio Luini picture—­No. 204.  For the rest there are some sickly Guido Renis and Carlo Dolcis and a sentimental Guercino.

But the most popular works—­on Sundays—­are the two Gerard Honthorsts, and not without reason, for they are dramatic and bold and vivid, and there is a Baby in each that goes straight to the maternal heart.  No. 157 is perhaps the more satisfying, but I have more reason to remember the larger one—­the Adoration of the Shepherds—­for I watched a copyist produce a most remarkable replica of it in something under a week, on the same scale.  He was a short, swarthy man with a neck like a bull’s, and he carried the task off with astonishing brio, never drawing a line, finishing each part as he came to it, and talking to a friend or an official the whole time.  Somehow one felt him to be precisely the type of copyist that Gherardo della Notte ought to have.  This painter was born at Utrecht in 1590 but went early to Italy, and settling in Rome devoted himself to mastering the methods of Amerighi, better known as Caravaggio (1569-1609), who specialized in strong contrasts of light and shade.  After learning all he could in Rome, Honthorst returned to Holland and made much money and fame, for his hand was swift and sure.  Charles I engaged him to decorate Whitehall.  He died in 1656.  These two Honthorsts are, as I say, the most popular of the pictures on Sunday, when the Uffizi is free; but their supremacy is challenged by the five inlaid tables, one of which, chiefly in lapis lazuli, must be the bluest thing on earth.

Passing for the present the Sala di Niobe, we come to the Sala di Giovanni di San Giovanni, which is given to a second-rate painter who was born in 1599 and died in 1636.  His best work is a fresco at the Badia of Fiesole.  Here he has some theatrical things, including one picture which sends English ladies out blushing.  Here also are some Lelys, including “Nelly Gwynn”.  Next are two rooms, one leading from the other, given to German and Flemish pictures and to miniatures, both of which are interesting.  In the first are more Duerers, and that alone would make it a desirable resort.  Here is a “Virgin and Child”—­No. 851—­very naive and homely, and the beautiful portrait of his father—­No. 766—–­a symphony of brown and green.  Less attractive works from the same hand are the “Apostle Philip”—­No. 777—­and “S.  Giacomo Maggiore,” an old man very coarsely painted by comparison with the artist’s father.  Here also is a very