The subject
admits of every perfection--form, colour, expression, composition. It
can be as simple as you please, and yet as rich; as broad and pure, and
yet as full of delicate detail. Think of the chance for flesh in the
little naked, nestling child, irradiating divinity; of the chance for
drapery in the chaste and ample garment of the mother! think of the great
story you compress into that simple theme! Think, above all, of the
mother's face and its ineffable suggestiveness, of the mingled burden of
joy and trouble, the tenderness turned to worship, and the worship turned
to far-seeing pity! Then look at it all in perfect line and lovely
colour, breathing truth and beauty and mastery!"
"Anch' io son pittore!" I cried. "Unless I am mistaken, you have a
masterpiece on the stocks. If you put all that in, you will do more than
Raphael himself did. Let me know when your picture is finished, and
wherever in the wide world I may be, I will post back to Florence and pay
my respects to--the _Madonna of the future_!"
He blushed vividly and gave a heavy sigh, half of protest, half of
resignation.
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