"People!" said Julian, scornfully.

Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise ;'

"Let them yelp."

Mr. Vere was an eminent clergyman, who had been an intimate friend of Mr. Home before his death. Julian had only heard him preach, and met him occasionally; but he had read some of his works, and had received from him so much sympathizing kindness and intellectual aid, that he regarded him with a love and reverence little short of devotion- -as a man distinguished above all others for his gentleness, his eloquence, his honesty, his learning, and his love. This likeness had belonged to Mr. Home, and Julian had asked leave to carry it with him whenever he should go to the University.

"Yes," said he, "the place of honour for Mr. Vere. But where shall I put the Fra Angelico?"

"Dear old Beato," said Violet; "put him opposite the door, that his 'dream of fair colours' may attract the eyes of every one who enters the room."

"Yes; I do think this would touch even the soul of a bed-maker or a gyp," said Julian.

So they hung it, in a good light, directly facing the door. It was a chromo-lithograph of Angelico's Frankfort picture, and was very pleasant to look at as a mere effect of colour from the predominance of blue and gold. It had always been a favourite with Julian; it could not but be a favourite with any man of pure taste or refined sentiments. Exactly in the centre,

under a baldaccino, with a roof of blue and gold, sits the Virgin, her tresses hidden, but her fair, holy, tender face visible under the graceful and exquisitely symmetrical folds of her falling robe of pale blue, which is edged with a thin golden broidery, and clasped by a gem over her bosom. In her arms is the Holy Child, the figure infantine with the first flaxen hair, but the face full of mystery and love. On either side, round the steps of the throne, is a crown of choiring angels, six on either side, each corresponding to each, all with their glorious faces turned towards the Virgin and Child, each in a different attitude of awe and worship, with white hands uplifted and intertwined, and lambent flames over their foreheads, symbolizing the fervour of love, and shedding a roseate glow over their star-like nimbuses and waving curls. Each of their glories is golden, and pierced with small flower-like dots, except that of the Infant Saviour, whose golden halo is broken by the red lines of a cross. The whole is on a golden ground, which admirably throws out the radiant and mingled colours of the dove-like angelic wings. No one could look thoughtfully at the picture without a feeling of deep devotion, and without a reverence for the great and holy painter, who painted only for God's glory, who refused all praise as due only to the subjects which he chose, and who rightly attributed to inspiration his power of seeing and of representing the spiritual beauty of those young, unfading, seraphic faces that reflect for ever the emerald of the rainbow and the sunlight of the throne.

64

ST. MARY OF EGYPT.

"The Ribera will be a capital pendant to the Fra Angelico; won't it, Vi?" said Julian driving a nail into the wall on the other side of the window.

"Yes," said Mrs. Home; "there will be something suggestive to a thoughtful mind in the contrast of the Virgin Mother with the bienheureuse pêcheresse. The picture a fine engraving of Spagnoletto's chef-d'œuvre -represented St. Mary of Egypt kneeling in an attitude of rapt devotion beside her own open grave, while over her fair shoulders, and rippling down to her bare feet, stream the long dishevelled tresses of her dark hair, touched into a golden gleam where the light falls on it, and veiling her whole form in its soft drapery, while an angel clothes her in the pure raiment, bathed in the blood

'which hath this might

That, being red, it dyes red soules to white.'

"And where shall we hang this?" said Julian, taking up a photograph of Van Dyck's great painting of Jacob's Dream: the Hebrew boy is sleeping on the ground, and his long, dark curls, falling off his forehead, mingle with the rich foliage of the surrounding plants, fanned by the waving of mysterious wings; a cherub is lightly raising the embroidered cap that partially shades his face, and at his feet, blessing him with uplifted hand, stands a majestic angel, on whose flowing robes of white gleams a celestial radiance from the vista, alight with heavenly faces, that opens over his head. A happy and holy slumber seems to breathe from the lad's countenance, and yet you can tell that

the light of dreams has dawned under his "closed eyelids," and that the inward eye has caught full sight of that Beatific Epiphany.

"We must hang this in your bed-room, Julian," said Mrs. Home. "I shall love to think of you lying under the outstretched hand of this heavenly watcher."

So they hung it there, and the task was over, and they spent a happy happy evening together. Next morning Julian accompanied them to the train, and walked back to the matriculation examination.

E

CHAPTER THE SIXTH.

RENCONTRES.

'A boy-no better-with his rosy cheeks
Angelical, keen eye, courageous look,
And conscious step of purity and pride."

WORDSWORTH'S Prelude.

A PUBLIC school man is by no means lonely when he first enters the university. He finds many of his old school-fellows accompanying him, and many who have gone up before him, and he feels united to them all by a bond of fellowship, which at once creates for him a circle of friends. Had Julian merely kept up his Harton acquaintances, he would have known as many Camford men as were at all necessary for the purposes of society.

But although with most or all of the Hartonians Julian remained on pleasant and friendly terms, there were others whom he saw quite as much, and whose society he enjoyed all the more thoroughly because their previous associations and experiences were different from his own. And on looking back in after