Raphael was to the painters of Italy what John was to the Disciples of Christ, “The Beloved.” I think, too, that as John was the disciple, so Raphael was the painter “whom Jesus loved.” Though strong and determined as a man, he was mild and gentle as a woman. He had the “Sunshine of life” in his heart, and the “look of eternal youth” in his face. Methinks he was like David, “a man after God’s own heart.” Such a man could not paint hell. He had not seen it and knew nothing about it. His mission was to paint angels and innocence, Heaven and holiness, God and glory; and his fitness for this high calling amounted almost to divine inspiration. Never did the fires of genius burn more brightly upon the altar of devotion, than in the breast of Raphael. Never before, nor since, has divine glory been so perfectly pictured on canvas as in The Transfiguration. You see Christ at that supreme moment when “His face did shine as the sun, and His garments were white as the light.” Moses and Elias, from the other world are there with their happy hearts, bright faces and glorified bodies. Below them are Peter, James, and John, reverently bowing to the earth, and shielding their faces from the light. Above all, but half enveloped in clouds, you see God the Father whose very expression says: “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, hear ye Him.” Hawthorne makes one of his characters in the _Marble Faun_ say: “It is the spectator’s mood that transfigures The Transfiguration itself.” This may be—I suppose it is—true, to some extent, but somehow I was in the mood. I admired this picture, I sat down before it “until it sank into my heart.” I said: “Lord, it is good to be here, it seems only one step from Heaven and Home.” The beloved painter came to do what the beloved Disciple left undone. John in his gospel failed to mention the Transfiguration, so Raphael was sent to fill up the omission with a picture. While it is true, as stated in the outset, that Art and Architecture are the chief features of modern Rome, yet Art is of primary, and Architecture of secondary consideration. Italians build fine houses, not for the sake of the houses themselves, but that they may display their “tasteful talents” in ornamenting and decorating them. I speak especially of churches, from the very fact that the Italians have not, nor do they want, fine Court-houses and costly Capitol buildings, as we have. They exercise their taste, and lavish all their wealth and art upon the churches or cathedrals. There are eighty odd cathedrals in Rome dedicated to the Virgin Mary alone. Besides these there are scores of others dedicated to men, and monks, seraphs, saints and sinners—one, I believe, a small one, to Christ. Some of these, St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s especially are reckoned among the finest cathedrals in existence; and yet the external appearance of these buildings is not so imposing as one might imagine. It is their interior that has rendered them famous.