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Rh of thousands in his mind, the Cardinal's attention was fixed on the Madonna,—seemingly carelessly, but, in reality, most skilfully displayed.

"Raphael! by all that is beautiful!" exclaimed Mazarin, examining the picture with much attention. "How long has it been in your possession?"

"Just arrived—a little speculation of mine, and only hastily opened, from a desire to have its merit appreciated by so admirable a judgment as that of your Excellency."

"What do you think of it?" asked the Cardinal, turning to Guido, who gave a warm and, gradually, an enthusiastic opinion of its beauties.

The conversation now turned entirely on works of art, and the Cardinal evidently took much interest in the fervour with which Guido dwelt on the subject. The love of art, which was with Mazarin a passion, seems to have been the only sign in him of that poetry which is part of the Italian character; but there is no mind, however worldly, without some ideal enjoyment; and his was in his superb collection of paintings. He pointed out the "glorious spoil which hung his storied walls" to a friend on his death-bed, and said, "Is it not hard to leave all these behind?" The enthusiasm and freshness of Guido, too,