I doubt
whether I have ever really talked with half a dozen persons in my life,
either men or women.
To-day my wife and I have been at the picture and sculpture galleries of
the Capitol. I rather enjoyed looking at several of the pictures, though
at this moment I particularly remember only a very beautiful face of a
man, one of two heads on the same canvas by Vandyke. Yes; I did look
with new admiration at Paul Veronese's "Rape of Europa." It must have
been, in its day, the most brilliant and rejoicing picture, the most
voluptuous, the most exuberant, that ever put the sunshine to shame. The
bull has all Jupiter in him, so tender and gentle, yet so passionate,
that you feel it indecorous to look at him; and Europa, under her thick
rich stuffs and embroideries, is all a woman. What a pity that such a
picture should fade, and perplex the beholder with such splendor shining
through such forlornness!
We afterwards went into the sculpture-gallery, where I looked at the Faun
of Praxiteles, and was sensible of a peculiar charm in it; a sylvan
beauty and homeliness, friendly and wild at once.
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