Among her best compositions have been noted “Leonardo da Vinci Dying in the arms of Francis I.;” “The Return of Arminius”--painted for Joseph II.--“The Funeral Pomp of Pallas;” and “The Nymph Surprised,” covering herself hastily with a white veil. In painting portraits, she had the habit of waiting, before sketching, to seize on some favorite attitude or expression. She understood the effects of clare-obscure, and took care to avoid confusion in her figures. Her draperies were designed with taste, and not superfluous. An amateur once said to her, “Your angels could walk without deranging their robes.” She was in the habit of throwing on paper her reflections, and preserving the souvenirs. The following words were written on one of her pictures: “I will not attempt to express supernatural things by human inspiration, but wait for that till I reach heaven, if there is painting done there.” Art to her had been as the breath of life, and labor her greatest delight. They continued to be so, even when, crowned with fame, she was the centre of an admiring circle in the best society of Rome. Zucchi, in the hope of beguiling her from too assiduous application, purchased a beautiful villa--Castle Gandolfo--for their residence; but Angelica could not bear to be long distant from Rome. Strangers who came to the city were soon attracted to pay their respects to the lovely artist; and in the companionship of the great and gifted, either in her own circle, or with friends like Klopstock and Gessner--who have highly praised her genius--she exercised an influence that did not fail to promote the growth of literary and artistic cultivation. De Rossi says: “It was interesting to see Angelica and her husband before a picture. While Zucchi spoke with enthusiasm, Angelica remained silent, fixing her eloquent glance on the finest portions of the work. In her countenance one could read her feelings, and her observations were always limited to a few brief words. These, however, seldom expressed any blame; only the praises of that which was worthy of praise. It belonged to her nature to be struck by the beautiful alone, as the bee draws only honey out of every flower.” Raphael Mengs pronounced upon her a flattering eulogium. “As an artist,” he says, “she is the pride of the female sex in all times and all nations. Nothing is wanting; composition, coloring, fancy, all are here.” But he was her friend, and wrote thus while the recollection of her charms and virtues were fresh in his memory.