Day and night, indeed, in the literal sense.  At all times he was a man who had but few necessities; and Ottilie’s presence seemed to be to him in the place of all delicacies.  When he was working for her, it was as if he required no sleep; when he was busy about her, as if he could do without food.  Accordingly, by the hour of the evening solemnity, all was completed.  He had found the means of collecting some well-toned wind instruments to form an introduction, and produce the desired temper of thought and feeling.  But when the curtain rose, Charlotte was taken completely by surprise.  The picture which presented itself to her had been repeated so often in the world, that one could scarcely have expected any new impression to be produced.  But here, the reality as representing the picture had its especial advantages.  The whole space was the color rather of night than of twilight, and there was nothing even of the details of the scene which was obscure.  The inimitable idea that all the light should proceed from the child, the artist had contrived to carry out by an ingenious method of illumination which was concealed by the figures in the foreground, who were all in shadow.  Bright looking boys and girls were standing around, their fresh faces sharply lighted from below; and there were angels too, whose own brilliancy grew pale before the divine, whose ethereal bodies showed dim and dense, and needing other light in the presence of the body of the divine humanity.  By good fortune the infant had fallen asleep in the loveliest attitude, so that nothing disturbed the contemplation when the eye rested on the seeming mother, who with infinite grace had lifted off a veil to reveal her hidden treasure.  At this moment the picture seemed to have been caught, and there to have remained fixed.  Physically dazzled, mentally surprised, the people round appeared to have just moved to turn away their half-blinded eyes, to be glancing again toward the child with curious delight, and to be showing more wonder and pleasure than awe and reverence—­although these emotions were not forgotten, and were to be traced upon the features of some of the older spectators.

But Ottilie’s figure, expression, attitude, glance, excelled all which any painter has ever represented.  A man who had true knowledge of art, and had seen this spectacle, would have been in fear lest any portion of it should move; he would have doubted whether anything could ever so much please him again.  Unluckily, there was no one present who could comprehend the whole of this effect.  The Architect alone, who, as a tall, slender shepherd, was looking in from the side over those who were kneeling, enjoyed, although he was not in the best position for seeing, the fullest pleasure.  And who can describe the mien of the new-made queen of heaven?  The purest humility, the most exquisite feeling of modesty, at the great honor which had undeservedly been bestowed upon her, with indescribable and immeasurable happiness, was displayed upon her features, expressing as much her own personal emotion as that of the character which she was endeavoring to represent.