this acquaintance, and Raphael loses. In the letters of the former, you see profound thought and religious earnestness, a something honest, strong and benevolent, kind and simple. He is something more than merely an artist. Raphael, in his letters, speaks about nothing but money, and when the subject is his own marriage, he mentions that the “lovely child” has such and such a number of scudi. One sees no trace of the great Maestro, and no trace either of noble humanity. Nevertheless, Vasari says of him, that wherever he came, he brought with him a spirit of peace and harmony, which diffused a sense of satisfaction to every one and every thing. It is singular, that Raphael at his death, desired to be buried by the side of the young girl, to whom he had been betrothed, and who died before him, but whom he did not love like La Fornarina and others. The love of Michael Angelo for Yittoria Colonna is of the highest class. From his short, but not unfrequently interesting letters, I was struck by the often recurring closing sentence, “nothing further occurs to me at this time,” or “I have nothing more to say.” A remarkably candid and sensible expression!
I will now say a few words, regarding what I have seen and learned during the last ten or twelve days.
In the first place, I will tell you about the festival in the church of Ara Cœli, on the 6th inst. Il Beatissimo Bambino was now to be carried out from the manger to bless the Roman people, and then to be put by again till next Christmas. The lofty steps of Ara Cœli looked like an ant hillock, so thronged were they with people. Men and boys who sold little
