very. And she
has broken the oppressor's yoke. God send her a new life! May she learn
by her ancient sins! May she learn by her ancient glories!

"You will forgive me for forgetting my picture to talk of such things.
But we must return. Look back at what I said about the old portrait--the
clear, calm, victorious character of the old man's face, and see how all
the rest of the picture agrees with it, in a complete harmony. The
dress, the scenery, the light and shade, the general 'tone' of colour
should all agree with the character of the face--all help to bring our
minds into that state in which we may best feel and sympathise with the
human beings painted. Now here, because the face is calm and grand, the
colour and the outlines are quiet and grand likewise. How different
these colours are from that glorious 'Holy Family' of Francia's, next to
it on the right; or from that equally glorious 'Bacchus and Ariadne' of
Titian's, on the left! Yet all three are right, each for its own
subject. Here you have no brilliant reds, no rich warm browns; no
luscious greens. The white robe and cap give us the thought of purity
and simplicity; the very golden embroidery on them, which marks his rank,
is carefully kept back from being too gaudy. Everything is _sober_ here;
and the lines of the dress, how simple they all are--no rich curves, no
fluttering drapery. They would be quite stiff if it were not for that
waving line of round tassels in front, which break the extreme
straightness and heaviness of the splendid robe; and all pointing upwards
towards that solemn, thin, calm face, with its high white cap, rising
like the peak of a snow mountain against the dark, deep, boundless blue
sky beyond. That is a grand thought of Bellini's. You do not see the
man's hands; he does not want them now, his work is done. You see no
landscape behind--no buildings. All earth's ways and sights are nothing
to him now; there is nothing but the old man and the sky--nothing between
him and the heaven now, and he knows it and is glad. A few months more,
and those way-worn features shall have crumbled to their dust, and that
strong, meek spirit shall be in the abyss of eternity, before the God
from whence it came.

"So says John Bellini, with art more cunning than words. And if this
paper shall make one of you look at that little picture with fresh
interest, and raise one strong and solemn longing in you to die the death
of the righteous