e left us a very polite message. The
Duchess of Argyle, with her two little boys, was there also. Lord
Carlisle very soon came in, and with him--who do you think? Tell Hattie
and Eliza if they could have seen the noble staghound that came bounding
in with him, they would have turned from all the pictures on the wall to
this living work of art.

Landseer thinks he does well when he paints a dog; another man chisels
one in stone: what would they think of themselves if they could string
the nerves and muscles, and wake up the affections and instincts, of the
real, living creature? That were to be an artist indeed! The dog walked
about the gallery, much at home, putting his nose up first to one and
then another of the distinguished persons by whom he was surrounded; and
once in a while stopping, in an easy race about the hall, would plant
himself before a picture, with his head on one side, and an air of
high-bred approval, much as I have seen young gentlemen do in similar
circumstances. All he wanted was an eyeglass, and he would have been
perfectly set up as a critic.

As for the pictures, I have purposely delayed coming to them. Imagine a
botanist dropped into the middle of a blooming prairie, waving with
unnumbered dyes and forms of flowers, and only an hour to examine and
make acquaintance with them! Room, after room we passed, filled with
Titians, Murillos, Guidos, &c. There were four Raphaels, the first I had
ever seen. Must I confess the truth? Raphael had been my dream for
years. I expected something which would overcome and bewilder me. I
expected a divine baptism, a celestial mesmerism; and I found four very
beautiful pictures--pictures which left me quite in possession of my
senses, and at liberty to ask myself, am I pleased, and how much? It was
not that I did not admire, for I did; but that I did not admire enough.
The pictures are all holy families, cabinet size: the figures, Mary,
Joseph, the infant Jesus, and John, in various attitudes. A little
perverse imp in my heart suggested the questions, "If a modern artist
had painted these, what would be thought of them? If I did not know it
was Raphael, what should I think?" And I confess that, in that case, I
should think that there was in one or two of them a certain hardness and
sharpness of outline that was not pleasing to me. Neither, any more than
Murillo, has he in these pictures shadowed forth, to my eye, the idea of
Mary. Protestant as I am, no Catholic