There are but fifty pictures in the Vatican, but one of them is a painting allowed to be the first in the world—THE TRANSFIGURATION BY RAPHAEL. I know not why it was, but my first impressions were those of disappointment; perhaps because my expectations had been raised too high. The colors too are said to have somewhat changed since it came from the hand of its great master. After seeing in France and Italy the chef d'ouvres of the first artists of different ages, and realizing that Raphael was the noblest of them all, I expected perhaps, when I looked upon his master-piece, to see more than human genius can ever execute. But every moment since, it has grown upon me, until I felt ready to subscribe to the decision which pronounced it the greatest triumph the pencil ever has achieved. No words can describe the aerial lightness with which the figures of the Saviour and the two prophets seem suspended in the air. They appear floating on the clouds, while around them is spread an effulgence of glory, which nowhere else have colors been able to produce. The Apostles are on the ground below, veiling their faces, as if smitten down, and "dazzled with excess of brightness." But it was on the head of the Saviour that Raphael lavished all his power, attempting to invest him with a majesty and beauty-to array him with an air of Divinity -which would make this the very perfection of art. There is but one that can compare with it, and that the countenance of our Lord in Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper at Milan. There indeed the artist left the head imperfect, because he could not realize his conception of the celestial beauty it ought to possess. Yet unfinished as it is, it expresses all we can imagine

We have already in this chapter spoken of the characteristics of Michael Angelo, Raphael we regard as his perfect contrast. It has been well remarked, that the former seemed to have imbibed the spirit of the Old Testament, and the latter that of the New. Every thing recorded of Raphael

appears to develop a loveliness of disposition most foreign to the stern character of his great rival. Idolized by his friends, he seemed formed for the fullest display of every social affection. Beauty was the element and atmosphere in which he lived, and his most pleasant occupation was to transfer the loveliness of woman to his almost breathing canvass. There it still awakens our admiration as no other productions of the pencil can, for the centuries which have passed sent forth no rival to eclipse his fame. And when he portrayed subjects of a sacred character, his work appeals at once to our affections. With the spirit of St. John he painted the Saviour of the world, and we recognize in the portrait which he has drawn, One who can be "touched with the feeling of our infirmities." His pictures therefore teach the lessons of our

faith.

The Transfiguration was Raphael's last work, and before it was completed, he was cut off at the early age of thirtyseven. But seldom for centuries past-if we may credit the account of those who saw it-had Rome witnessed a scene like that which took place on the sweet April day, when this divinest painter of the age was borne to his rest in the Pantheon. Yet before that solemn march began—that march which knows no return-his body was laid in state, with this his master-piece suspended over it, the last traces of his hand still visible on the canvass.

"And when all beheld

Him where he lay, how changed from yesterday-
Him in that hour cut off, and at his head

His last great work; when, entering in, they looked
Now on the dead, then on that master-piece-

Now on his face, lifeless and colorless,

Then on those forms divine that lived and breathed,

And would live on for ages-all were moved,
And sighs burst forth, and loudest lamentations."

PRESENTATION AT THE PAPAL COURT.-THE

POPEDOM. PRIVATE LIFE OF THE POPES.

CHAPTER VII.

TO-DAY we were presented to his Holiness Pope Gregory XVI. by our Consul, through whom, as we have no minister at the Papal Court, all the necessary arrangements are made. So many holydays and other public festivals are continually occurring, that it is necessary to make application some time before, and we had been for several weeks waiting his Holiness' leisure. The required costume is the same as on other occasions—the ladies in black, with black veils over their heads, the gentlemen also in full dress of black. The only difference is, that boots are forbidden-a very disagreeable arrangement, as passing in thin shoes and silk stockings through the cold galleries of the Vatican, and over the marble floors, an invalid would be very apt to take a cold, for which his introduction to the successor of St. Peter would hardly be considered a sufficient compensation.

Twenty-two hours of the day,* that is, three o'clock in the afternoon, was the time appointed, and punctual to the hour, we assembled in a little room adjoining the Sistine Chapel, where we remained till our company had all arrived. Here hats and cloaks were deposited, and the Consul drilled

*The Roman day counts its hours from 1 to 24, beginning at sundown. As this is rather indefinite for a starting point, and from its daily change would be very inconvenient, the Cardinal who presides over this department, issues a public ordinance, decreeing at what hour the sun ought to set. At this season of the year he places it at 5 P. M. Three o'clock in the afternoon, therefore, is twenty-two hours of the day.