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Updated: May 5, 2025


All of us have been stirred in the same way by the sight of Napoleon, or of some other great man, made illustrious by his genius or by fame. "You wish to see Raphael's portrait of Jesus Christ, monsieur?" the old man asked politely. There was something metallic in the clear, sharp ring of his voice. He set the lamp upon a broken column, so that all its light might fall on the brown case.

In the gallery at Dresden, where the loveliest mother's face in all the world shines down upon you from Raphael's canvas like a benediction, there is a small picture by Rubens, "The Judgment of Paris."

To her deep regret her long braids had been cut off several years before, when she was recovering from an attack of typhoid fever, and now her hair was just long enough to tuck into a small knot on top of her head. But when Madge was excited, which was a frequent occurrence, this knot would break loose, and her curls would fly about, like the hair of one of Raphael's cherubs.

The god-mother was a large amiable person and had a round smiling countenance; as a child she must have had a real Raphael's angel head, but now it was an old angel's head with silvery white hair, well curled. The daughters were tall, slender, refined and much dressed.

Sometimes, when in repose, it reminded me of one of Raphael's angels. At other times, when moved by mirth and with arch glances dancing in the deep, grey eyes, and they could make merry when they willed, it was a witching, teasing, provoking little face. Or, again, if changed by grief, under which aspect, thank God!

He would have purchased Raphael's Adoration of the Magi had some rogue been able to steal it from the Vatican. Hanging from the ceiling and almost touching the floor, forward between the entrance to the dining salon and the owner's cabin, was a rug eight and a half by six. It was the first object that struck your eye as you came down the companionway.

Thence he would try to take her to the minister, who had by no means forgotten her superb singing. His Eminence had mentioned her kindly very recently in a conversation with the leech. The following morning Barbara went to the great statesman's business offices. Hannibal was waiting for her. It was on Saint Raphael's day, which had attracted his fellow-clerks to a festival in the country.

Cecilia" of Scheffer this single figure, with such womanly depth of feeling, such lofty inspiration, yet so sad with the joyous and almost girlish grace of Raphael's representation of the same subject, and we feel at once the height and the limitation of Scheffer's genius.

In the symmetrically pierced lunette opposite, the distribution of the space into three distinct but united pictures, the central one seen through the grating of the prison, is a highly ingenious and, on the whole, an acceptable variant on previous inventions. But these two are the last of the Vatican frescoes that show Raphael's infallible instinct as a composer.

When the surgeon came, he cut away the sleeve of Raphael's jacket and shirt, and then called some men to assist him while he set the bone. The pain was dreadful every cry of her child pierced the heart of Madame Tube, who fainted during these cruel moments.

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