are these two great masters of painting. I confess that I never like to
compare them, one with the other, although their lives were so closely
related that it is always natural to do so. Their characters were
opposite; so, also, their work. One sways us by his all-compelling
strength; the other draws us by his alluring charm. Michael Angelo is in
painting what Dante and Shakespeare are in poetry, and Beethoven in
music; Raphael is like the gentle Spenser and the tender Mozart. Michael
Angelo is thoroughly original; Raphael possessed a peculiarly receptive
nature, that caught something from all with whom he came into close
contact. Michael Angelo strove continually to grow; Raphael struggled
for nothing. Michael Angelo's life was sternly lonely and sorrowful;
Raphael's bright, happy, and placid. Michael Angelo lived long; Raphael
died in early manhood.

"Still," he continued, after a moment, as he noted the sympathetic faces
about him, "although I have mentioned them, I beg of you not to allow
any of these personal characteristics or distinctions to influence you
in your judgment of the work of these two. Forget the one to-day as we
study the other.

"You have read much of Raphael's life, so I will not talk about that.
You remember that, when young, he studied in Perugia, in Perugino's
studio, and perhaps you will recollect that, when we were there, I told
you that his early work was exceedingly like that of this master.

"Now, look! Here right before us is Raphael's _Coronation of the
Virgin_,--his first important painting. See how like Perugino's are the
figures. Notice the exquisite angels on either side of the Virgin, which
are so often reproduced! See their pure, childlike faces and the queer
little stiffness that is almost a grace! See the sweet solemnity of