"----Well," said Sebastian, after drawing for a few minutes in silence, "perfect proportion always gives the idea of smallness. The figure was on the same scale with the rest, till Michael Angelo put in his great Lazarus: and you know I could not re-touch the master's work." "Michael Angelo writes to me sometimes," observed the Duchess, "but he is a better correspondent of my cousin, Vittoria Colonna." Sebastian worked a little while in silence, and then said: "Is not the Marchioness somewhat tinctured with the new opinions?" "Yes," said Giulia, "I am afraid she is. That's the worst of being too clever." "Is it a proof of being so?" "Well, clever people are apt to run after new things." "Perhaps they see more in them than the less clever do." "They think they do, at any rate." "Has your ladyship looked yet into the works of the Prince of Carpi?" "Do you mean the great heavy books you brought me from the Cardinal? No." "They contain a masterly refutation of the heresies of Erasmus. The Cardinal thought they might confirm you in the faith." "I am happy to say my faith wants no confirming. I would rather have had some novels. You may tell him so, if he says anything to you about it.... Have you read the books yourself?" "I have looked into them." "Have you read Erasmus's books?" "No." "Well, when I attack controversy, I will read both sides." "That will be rather dangerous." "How can that be? Only one side can be right." "Your excellency is of course above danger," said Sebastian, with a little cough, "but, for common minds, there is the danger of not distinguishing which _is_ the right. For myself, being but a moderate logician, and still slighter theologian, I prefer taking my religion as I have been taught it, to meddling with edged tools. The Church is irrefutable: the Church has foundations that will never be shaken. And I am content to abide by its decisions.--A little more to the right." CHAPTER VIII. THE DUCHESS AND THE PAINTER.