me again. Our good prince has placed me in a sort
of affluence, which, if I have discretion, may be lasting; for he
protects me admirably, means to buy still more of me, and even orders
things from my own pencil. He thinks that in this town I am not in my
place, that my merits are not sufficiently recognized, and that I lack
encouragement. Perhaps he may take me with him, and improve me still
into a genuine artist, for he has the best of inclinations for it, and
I precisely taste and talent enough to understand him, and let myself
be advised by him."

"Rogue that thou art!" said his young friend, "I could not help
laughing at thy having disposed so advantageously of thy Julio Romano;
but still I should not like to be in thy place."

The old man went up to him, stared at him, and said, "And why not,
chuck, if thou hadst but the gift required for it? Every man paints and
tricks himself out, to put himself off for better than he really is,
and to pass for a wonderfully precious original, when most of them are
but daubed copies of copies. Hadst thou but heard my patron analyse the
picture, then mightest thou have learnt something! Now I begin to
understand all the technical designs of Julio Romano; thou wilt not
believe how many excellences I had overlooked in the picture, how many
passages of his racy pencil. Ay, it is delightful to penetrate so
thoroughly into such an artist; and when one comprehends him entirely,
and in all his parts alike, there creeps over us in the full sense of
his high merit a feeling of self-complacency, as though we ourselves
had some share in the display of his genius; for fully to understand a
work of art, they say, is in some measure to produce it. What deep
gratitude I owe to my serene patron and critic, for having, beside the
money, poured into me such a flood of inspiration!"

"If I had not seen the man at the canvas painting," exclaimed Edward
smiling, "he might make me believe the picture was genuine."

"What hast thou seen?" answered the old man warmly: "what dost thou
understand of the magic of art, and of those invisible spirits which
are attracted and embodied by means of colour and design? These are
very mysteries for the profane. Dost believe then that a man only
paints to make a picture, and that the pallet, the pencil and the good
purpose are sufficient? O my dear simpleton, there must concur besides
strange conjunctures, astral influxes, and the favour of a variety of
spirits,