of her countenance, in which
the charms of a seraph seemed displayed. The setting sun shone full
upon her face, and its golden beams seemed to surround it as with a
glory. Can you recall to your mind the Madonna of our Florentine
painter? She was here personified, even to those few deviations from
the studied costume which so powerfully, so irresistibly attracted me in
the picture."

With regard to the Madonna, of whom the prince spoke, the case is this:
Shortly after your departure he made the acquaintance of a Florentine
painter, who had been summoned to Venice to paint an altar-piece for
some church, the name of which I do not recollect. He had brought with
him three paintings, which had been intended for the gallery in the
Cornari palace. They consisted of a Madonna, a Heloise, and a Venus,
very lightly apparelled. All three were of great beauty; and, although
the subjects were quite different, they were so intrinsically equal that
it seemed almost impossible to determine which to prefer. The prince
alone did not hesitate for a moment. As soon as the pictures were
placed before him the Madonna absorbed his whole attention; in the two
others he admired the painter's genius; but in this he forgot the artist
and his art, his whole soul being absorbed in the contemplation of the
work. He was quite moved, and could scarcely tear himself away from it.
We could easily see by the artist's countenance that in his heart he
coincided with the prince's judgment; he obstinately refused to separate
the pictures, and demanded fifteen hundred zechins for the three. The
prince offered him half that sum for the Madonna alone, but in vain.
The artist insisted on his first demand, and who knows what might have
been the result if a ready purchaser had not stepped forward.

Two hours afterwards all three pictures were sold, and we never saw them
again. It was this Madonna which now recurred to the prince's mind.

"I stood," continued he, "gazing at her in silent admiration. She did
not observe me; my arrival did not disturb her, so completely was she
absorbed in her devotion. She prayed to her Deity, and I prayed to her
--yes, I adored her! All the pictures of saints, all the altars and the
burning tapers around me had failed to remind me of what now for the
first time burst upon me, that I was in a sacred place. Shall I confess
it to you? In that moment I believed firmly in Him whose image was
clasped in her beautiful hand. I read in