to ask him a single question,—he runs, he flies, and returning to his studio, he throws upon the canvas the features which had so strongly moved his soul. This time, guided by enthusiasm, his hand goes not astray; the sketch is completed, and Berthold recognizes his ideal. Since that day he is no longer the same man. The joy of success has poured into all his senses a new life. His mind, purified from its discouragements, re-attaches itself with vigor to the study of models; from copying masterpieces he passes to invention, and the results that he obtains are not less fortunate; decidedly, he excels in painting portraits. Landscape was abandoned, and Hackert, abandoned, was obliged to confess that his student had finally found his only vocation. From that time fortune showered her favors upon Berthold. He had orders for church paintings, and great lords disputed amongst themselves for his pictures, at the price of gold. In all the fancy pieces that he executed, Berthold always reproduced the features of his marvellous apparition. It was found that this face bore a striking resemblance to the princess Angiola T; and the critics took very little care to conceal from those who would listen to their opinion, that the young and fashionable painter was desperately in love with this beautiful lady. Berthold often became irritated at these pleasantries, which seemed to abase his ideal to the mean proportions of a mortal being.
"Do you believe," said he, "that there can exist, under the sky, so perfect a creature? No, it is in infinite space that my eye has caught a glimpse of this angel of an unknown world; it is from that hour of ecstacy that my vocation of painter dates!"
When the French army, overrunning Italy, from victory to victory, following the footsteps of Bonaparte, arrived at the gates of Naples, a revolutionary movement, caused by the imminence of the danger, overthrew the whole city. The King and Queen retreated before the sedition. The prime minister of the kingdom concluded a dishonorable
