the conception. Nothing can be more exquisite than the turn of the
head, neck, and shoulders; nothing more finely wrought than the
triumphant smile of the angel princess; nothing could be more artistic
than the representation of death in all its hopelessness, in the lower
figure. The poor, dead hand, that shows itself beneath the sheet, has
an unutterable pathos and beauty in it. As to the working of the
drapery,--an inferior consideration, of course,--I see no reason why
it should not compare advantageously with any in the British Museum.

Well, you will ask, why are you going on in this argumentative style?
Who doubts you? Let me tell you, then, a little fragment of my
experience. We saw this group of statuary the last thing before
dinner, after a most fatiguing forenoon of sightseeing, when we were
both tired and hungry,--a most unpropitious time, certainly,--and yet
it enchanted our whole company; what is more, it made us all cry--a
fact of which I am not ashamed, yet. But, only the next day, when I
was expressing my admiration to an artist, who is one of the
authorities, and knows all that is proper to be admired, I was met
with,--

"O, you have seen that, have you? Shocking thing! Miserable
taste--miserable!"

"Dear me," said I, with apprehension, "what is the matter with it?"

"0," said he, "melodramatic, melodramatic--terribly so!"

I was so appalled by this word, of whose meaning I had not a very
clear idea, that I dropped the defence at once, and determined to
reconsider my tears. To have been actually made to cry by a thing that