of industry. He had the qualities of a consummate craftsman, not those of an imaginative artist, who is led irresistibly to dedicate his life with all its energies to the ideal.
XXIV
Few of Benvenuto's masterpieces in jewellery and goldsmith's work survive.[1] Artists who aspire to immortality should shun the precious metals. The same fate has probably befallen Cellini's handiwork as befell the jewels he took to pieces in the Castle of S. Angelo. Critics have blamed his callousness on that occasion; but he knew well that it is of no use to waste a sigh over things in their nature so ephemeral as gold and silver settings. Still, some authentic pieces of his workmanship may be inspected in the collections of Florence, Vienna, Paris, Munich, and Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. Perhaps the most interesting are the golden salt-cellar at Vienna and the medallions of Clement VII. and Alessandro de' Medici, since these are minutely described for us in his Memoirs.
In technical excellence, as regards all processes of handling, chasing, and engraving, setting and mounting precious stones, enamelling metals, and adapting ingenious designs with bold invention to the special purpose of the object, these rare remnants of Cellini's art defy competition. It must, however, be admitted that, even while working on a small scale, he displayed more manual dexterity and more orna-
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- ↑ The exhaustive work of M. Eugene Plon, Ben<venuto Cellini, Orfèvre, Médailleur, Sculpteur, Paris, 1883, contains a complete catalogue of authentic and doubtful pieces.
