and that I shall not lose ground in his esteem if I contend that
every object in art is material, and that ideal forms and models of
excellence are absurdities. An Aspasia and a Phryne, youthful and
lovely, maybe elevated into a Pallas and a Venus by an able and
imaginative painter, whose excited fancy will readily improve upon
his models, and invest each feature, form, and attitude, with
classical and appropriate expression. But an ideal and perfectly
beautiful woman, destitute of every attribute arising from climate and
national peculiarities, is a phantom of the brain. And yet how many
common-place artists, who have consumed the most valuable portion of
their lives in drawing from plaster-casts, call these insufferably
vacant faces and forms genuine art, and affect to look down upon the
master-spirits who have immortalised themselves by matchless portraits
of the great men and beautiful women of their own times!"

The parties soon after separated, and Paul Veronese left the tavern,
accompanied by the stranger. I followed, and observed them walking
round the piazza, and pausing occasionally to listen to the melodious
barcarolos, and sportive sallies of the gay Venetians. At the entrance
of the Merceria the youth saluted and left his companion, and I
promptly availed myself of the opportunity to unmask and approach him.
He immediately recognised me, and expressed himself gratified to
observe that my accident had been unattended with evil consequence.
I repeated warmly my acknowledgments, and assured him of my ardent
wish to prove my gratitude by rendering him any service in my power.
He appeared, however, rather disconcerted than pleased by these
professions, and exclaimed with some vehemence, "What have I done for
you that I would not readily have attempted for the lowest of human
beings? How many a wretch throws himself from a precipice into the
deep to bring up a paltry coin! I have been taught to think that
exaggerated praise for the performance of a mere act of duty has a
tendency to promote vanity and cowardice; and I predict the decay
of true heroism and public spirit from the growing practice of
commemorating trivial events and trivial men by statues, columns,
and inscriptions."

"You may disclaim all merit," I replied; "but I cannot forget that, to
save the life of a stranger, you bounded from the lofty bulwark of a
frigate. I maintain that there is something god-like in the man who
hazards his life with suc