to him! Have you observed this monument to our James
II.?--who certainly deserved a tomb in St. Peter's, since he paid the
price of a kingdom for it. It is one of the least conspicuous, but not
one of the least beautiful of Canova's. Those two youthful figures
leaning their brows each on his inverted torch--standing sentinels by
that closed door--are they not inexpressibly graceful? And that closed
door!--so firmly closed!--and the dead have gone in!"

"Mildred Willoughby," said Winston, "you are a poet."

It was the first time he had ever called his companion by her Christian
name. It was done suddenly, in the moment of admiration, and her other
name was also coupled with it; but he had no sooner uttered the word
"Mildred" than he felt singularly embarrassed. She, however, by not
perceiving, or not seeming to perceive his embarrassment, immediately
dissipated it.

"If I were," said she, "to tell me of it would for ever check the
inspiration. To banish all suspicion of poetry, let me make a carping
criticism, the only one, I think, which the whole interior of this
edifice would suggest to me. I do wish that its marble pillars could be
swept clean of the multitudes of little boys that are clinging to
them--cherubs I suppose they are to be called. By breaking the pillar
into compartments, they destroy the effect of its height. _Little_,
indeed, they are not; they are big enough. A colossal infant--what can
be made of it? And an infant, too, that must not smile, or he might be
taken for a representative of some other love than the celestial?"

"Ay, and do what the artist will," said Winston, "the two Loves often
bear a very striking resemblance. In the church of St. Giovanni, amongst
their wreaths of flowers, the cherubs have a very Anacreontic
appearance."

"But away with criticism. One farewell look," cried Mildred, "at this
magnificent dome. How well all its accessaries, all its decorations, are
proportioned and harmonised--growing lighter as they rise higher. Here
at the base of each of the four vast columns which support it, we have
gigantic statuary--seen and felt to be gigantic, yet disturbing nothing
by its great magnitude--just above the columns those exquisite
bas-reliefs--next the circular mosaics--then the ribbed roof, so
chastely gilded and divided into compartments, distinct yet never
separated from the whole--it is perfection!"

They bade farewell to St. Peter's; and, in pursuance of their design,
re-