"Forgive me, uncle," rejoined Michel, with a smile, "I do not surrender on that point. I will maintain with my last breath the dignity and importance of art. You said just now that in the midst of civil war I would coolly go and sit down in a corner, to paint episodes of the conflict instead of fighting. I would fight, I beg you to believe, and I would fight hard if the object were to drive out the enemy. I would gladly lay down my life; glory would come to me more quickly so than I shall attain it by studying painting, and I love glory: in that respect I fear that I am incorrigible. But if I were in truth doomed to survive the downfall of my people after fighting in vain for their triumph, it is probable that I should collect my painful reminiscences and paint many pictures, to reproduce and perpetuate the memory of those bloody catastrophes. The more excited and desperate I was, the better and more striking my work would be. It would speak to men's hearts; it would arouse admiration for our heroism, pity for our misfortunes, and I assure you that it might prove that I had served our cause better with my brush than I had done with my gun." "Very good! very good!" rejoined the monk, with an ingenuous outburst of sympathy. "That is well said and well thought. We have a brother here who is a sculptor, and I consider that his work is no less useful to the cause of religion than mine is to the convent when I break up this lava. But that brother has faith, and he can carve the features of the Blessed Madonna without lowering the idea that we form of her. You will paint fine pictures, Michel; but only on the condition that you have taken part in the battle with heart and hand, and have been a zealous actor, not an unmoved spectator of events." "Now we are altogether in accord, my father; there is no genius in art without conviction and without emotion: but as there is nothing more for us to dispute about, if you are content with me at last, pray tell me what is going on, and wherein you expect my assistance. Are we on the eve of some important undertaking?" Fra Angelo was so excited that he had lost all notion of his surroundings. Suddenly his gleaming eyes filled with tears, his heaving breast fell with a deep sigh, his hands, which quivered as if they were feeling for pistols in his belt, fell back upon the cord around his waist and touched his chaplet.