ce of those who bask in the
meridian blaze, resplendent in the hues of heaven,--are of no mortal
grace and beauty; but they are eclipsed by Aurora herself, who sails on
the golden clouds before them, shedding "showers of shadowing roses" on
the rejoicing earth; her celestial presence diffusing gladness, and
light, and beauty around. Above the heads of the heavenly coursers,
hovers the morning star, in the form of a youthful cherub, bearing his
flaming torch. Nothing is more admirable in this beautiful composition,
than the motion given to the whole. The smooth and rapid step of the
circling Hours as they tread on the fleecy clouds; the fiery steeds; the
whirling wheels of the car; the torch of Lucifer, blown back by the
velocity of his advance; and the form of Aurora, borne through the
ambient air, till you almost fear she should float from your sight; all
realize the illusion. You seem admitted into the world of fancy, and
revel in its brightest creations.

In the midst of such youth and loveliness, the dusky figure of Phoebus
appears to great disadvantage. It is not happily conceived. Yet his air
is noble and godlike, and his free commanding action, and conscious
ease, as he carelessly guides, with one hand, the fiery steeds that are
harnessed to his flaming car, may, perhaps, compensate in some degree
for his want of beauty; for he certainly is not handsome; and I looked
in vain for the youthful majesty of the god of day, and thought on
Apollo Belvedere. Had Guido thought of it too, he never could have made
this head, which is, I think, the great and only defect of this
exquisite painting; and what makes it of more importance, is, that
Apollo, not Aurora, is the principal figure--the first that catches the
eye, and which, in spite of our dissatisfaction, we are to the last
obliged to contemplate. The defects of his Apollo are a new proof of
what I have very frequently observed, that Guido succeeded far better in
feminine than in masculine beauty. His female forms, in their
loveliness, their delicacy, their grace and sweetness are faultless; and
the beauty and innocence of his infants have seldom been equalled; but
he rarely gave to manly beauty and vigour a character that was noble.

From the _Aurora_ of Guido, we must turn to the rival _Aurora_ of
Guercino, in the Villa Ludovisi. In spite of Guido's bad head of Apollo,
and in spite of Guercino's magic chiaroscuro, I confess myself disposed
to give the preference to