has made it divine for all eternity. Raphael doubtless owed to
antiquity something of the power that enabled him spontaneously to
create such a masterpiece; but in this case he has far surpassed his
models, and we should search vainly in antique art for a more ideal and
grand figure than that of this marvellous infant. However, hitherto we
have only examined the body, what shall we say about the head to give a
true idea of it? In fact, that is perhaps the most extraordinary and
most indescribable part of the whole picture. The Infant Jesus seems to
recoil from the spectacle of human shame; he lovingly presses against
the Virgin's breast, softly rests his forehead against his Mother's
cheek, and darts towards the world one of those flaming and terrible
glances at which, it is said, everything in heaven, on earth, and in
hell trembles. His disordered hair stands upright and quivers as in the
breath of the tempest, and sombre clouds pass across the widely modelled
forehead; the brows are frowning, the pupils dilate and the flame is
ready to dart forth; the eyes, profound and terrible, are preparing to
flash with lightning; they still withhold it, but we feel that it may
break forth, and we tremble. This glance is truly splendid; it
fascinates you, attracts you, and, at the same time, fills you with
terror. The lips are quivering, and, from the point of view of line,
that is the great mystery, I think; the upper lip, visibly lifted on the
left side, assumes a strange accent of anger and indignation. This
deviation of a single feature is materially a small matter, and yet it
suffices to stamp the whole countenance with irresistible action. The
Infant Jesus assumes a formidable aspect; we recognize in him the
Sovereign Judge; his power is infinite and one act of his will be
sufficient to condemn or absolve. The _Virgin of the Chair_ had given us
a presentiment of this image in 1516; the _Virgin of St. Sixtus_ shows
it to us in 1518, in its eternal grandeur and sublime reality. But the
Word of God would scarcely leave room for anything but fear, if the
Virgin did not immediately come to shed hope in the soul terrified at
the idea of justice.

In fact, the Virgin remains calm and serene beside her enraged son, and
reassures our heart also with her confidence. If she presents the Son of
God to the world under a terrifying aspect, at the same time she presses
him so tenderly against her breast, and her features, under the
splendo