curiosities, and if possible, divert my attention from such useless regrets. While there I visited a studio of one of the most eminent Italian artists, where a painting of extraordinary excellence riveted my gaze. Such exquisite coloring and perfect representation of natural beauty, such life-like delineation of human character I never before observed. There were several groups in the picture, each representing different phases of life, one of which particularly attracted me, which I still remember as if it were but yesterday. An old lady sat bonneted and shawled in the corner, with spectacles resting on the tip of her nose, watching with concealed merriment a group of young persons who were trying to manage something they did not understand, and evidently wishing her out of the way. The scornful expression of their lips as they glanced backward to see if she were looking at them, and their uneasy glances at each other showed as plainly as words could express, that they knew she could give them all the information desired, the thought of receiving which from her they spurned. The scene was evidently intended to represent the old adage, "Young folks think old folks are fools, and old folks know young ones are," which was most clearly illustrated in the chuckling expression of the old lady's face. Though out of keeping with the current of my thoughts, it suggested to me the idea, "Why not be an artist?" What a thrill went through me at that moment! It seemed like a monitor from heaven sent to calm my troubled soul by leading it to that eternal sense of Beauty which is the source of all inspiration,
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