ke have always seen in this figure
the beloved disciple, the one who leaned on the Lord's breast at the
last supper, and they delight to show him as a young man of refined
and beautiful countenance. His hand, with the parted fingers, seems
to make a gesture bidding one listen, and his face has a look of
rapture. It was natural indeed that Raphael should thus have placed in
the company one whose gospel is full of feeling, the life of Christ
set to music as it were.

Finally, we have St. Augustine, one of the Fathers of the church,
standing in his priestly robe and holding a bishop's crook. He is
apparently exchanging glances with St. John. Perhaps he is designed to
show that the church makes much of music in its service.

If we could see the painting itself with its beautiful color, we
should see even more distinctly not only how Raphael thought out his
design, making his figures all have a harmonious relation to one
another, but how perfectly the composition, in its lines, its light
and color, expresses this musical harmony of heaven and earth.

X

THE TRANSFIGURATION

The Transfiguration is a picture divided into two parts. The lower
part is filled with more figures than the upper and contains more
action. On one side are nine of the disciples of Jesus; on the other
is a crowd of people in company with a father who brings his son to be
healed. He gives an account of his boy's sickness in these words:--

"He is mine only child. And lo! a spirit taketh him, and he
suddenly crieth out; and it teareth him that he foameth
again; and, bruising him, hardly departeth from him."[7]

[Footnote 7: Luke, chapter ix., verses 38, 39.]

The father calls upon the disciples, in the absence of Jesus, to heal
his son. In the company with him, we can make out two women kneeling
by the boy. We think it is the mother who supports him, and looks at
the disciples as she points to her son. How quiet and self-possessed
she is, in contrast to the poor fellow's violence as shown in his
position, and his distorted hands.

She is wholly devoted to him, and the mother shows in her face and
bearing. But the other kneeling woman, who may be his sister, carries
a different expression as she points to the boy. She looks toward the
disciples with a severe and scornful air, as if saying: "What! you
profess to heal the sick, and you can do nothing for this poor
sufferer!"

The figures in the background are crying aloud a