Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1840-12-04


their gorgeousness. A mirror, which reach
ed the ceiling, was hung over the white mar
BILE mantcl-picce the walls were plentiful
y adorned witha few of the choicest pictures
of the old masters, with the exception of that
opposite the Fireplace, whicI, was totally
covered by a mahogany set Of book-slclvcs +;
and
Ground the lamp of fretcd gold
Boomcd flowers in urns of China's mould"
The other room contained all tho appurte-
nanccs of an elegant sleeping apartment.
But thing surprised him more than all
this. The books, the papers, the beloved
inkstand, the gift of a dear friend, and all
that he could have cared for in the abjcct
poverty from which he had just been rescued,
we're there less than three hours before,
they had lain scattered about the forlorn
attic in--Lanc lie had thus nothing to
rcgrc,-cvcry thing that could contribute
to his wcll-being, mental and physical mi
scry seemed to have been changed into hap
pincss as suddenly and unaccountably as
Harlequin changes bccf-stcak into beau
tiful goddess.
Verify, if, as Bishop Berkeley contends,
our life is but dream, what supper must
many ofus have eaten before we first went
to bed! What very improper quantity of
supcrllutics we have INDUCED in, that such
not. TO- characterization and contrary things
take place; that misery and happiness come
and go-now one, and then the other that
new we are beloved, now hatcd--now laugh
ing; in short, how very good an argument
it is, in support of the bishops theory, that
our life is SO like the dreams that we have on
our beds of down or flinty couches-cqualy
paradoXical, absurd, and useless
Weeks passed away, during which Henry
heard nothing of the gentleman in bluc,'
whom he half suspected to be "A relation of
the "gcntlcman in black" lie nevertheless
had done liitlc else than enjoy himself in the
company Oils delightful old au,hors-friends,
who had been his only ones in need, and to
whom he now felt increased gratitude, as
well as respect and affection.
There arc few pleasantcr places than a
public eXhihtlonroom-thc realm of color,
delight, and refined enjoyment. About a
theatre, we know not why, there is an in
hcrcnt appearance of dissipation the cnor,
to get at pleasure strikes us more than the
pleasure itself; every body laughs, but APP
parcn,ly only because others do; and, fur
thcrmorc, the fat gucs Of the day have left the
jewellers weary and listlcss. But morning
cxhibiiion-wilh the sun pouting in through
the windows, the slcep-rctrcshcd faces, the
social mingling of the enjoycrs, the moving
to and fro, the approving hum, IN short, the
animation that is really partaken of by every
onc--is a remnant of the golden tImc--a
place apart, sacred TO innocence and know
lcdge-a temple fit to adorn the purity of a
poetical paradise. Mr.. Evanslaw agreed
with us, and, after he had been there some
two or three hours, found that he had not vet
done one room.
He was now struck by particularly fine
picture of Edward Landsccr's, and safe down
on bench to ENJOY it at his leisure. He
had not been long seated thus, when a
gentleman, who had, unpcrceived by him,
placed himself by his side on the bench, OBJ
served TO him that he thought the picture he
was looking at was the finest in the room
The stranger was a man of proportions the
very smallest, though delicatcly moulded
and his department had that character which
implied, though not expressed, by the wore
gcntlemanly--a mixture of elegance, modes.
ty, and self-consclousncss. His features were
handsome, but chiefly remarkable for sweet.
ness of expression and that patient quietudt
which is the result of either past suilericg OIL
habits Of study. His dress, by the way, wa.
blue.
IL am happy, sir, in being able to agrc,
with you," said Evansllaw. "That pictur,
of Landseer's has, to me, more genius abou
it than any other have scen-morc truth
The artist hasa power greater than any othc
Of expressing wha, he feels and it is th
power to express, and not to feel only, whicl
constitutes the fine painter as well as the fin,
poet and musician. But there arc many othe
very beautiful pictures"
"There are indeed" replied the stranger
"you will forgive me, if | am mistaken il
|judging from your last observations that yo
are disnclincd to make comparisons"
81 did not mean so by what then said
| simply wished to cultivate a feeling Of era
ttudo for any thing of the beautiful that al
artist gives us, howcverlitlc that beauty ma
be. ! will not forget, in my admiration o
Landseer's genus, the feeling and truth o
that landscape yonder. A dcw-drop is love
ly, though the smile of my mistress
more so and certain troubles, sir, have mad
my heart bound forward with the dccpcs
gratitude to the mind that can bring smil
from my heart, or for an instant unnervc tn
frown that suffering has placed upon m
brow"
81 cordially sympathizc with you in tia
feeling" returned the stranger; "lhat thcor
has been my comfort through life--has cna
bled me to encounter poverty with ligt
heart"
"What would become oflove," asked on
hero, "if that theory were not the true ono
What would become of association Tha
one finest thing which our experience ha
taught us, and that one only, would then
f beloved byus, and the whole wisdom of ina
tural piety be done away with. In fact, it is
E impossible for humanity TO feel otherwise
seeing that it is creation whose happines
is half generated by mamory--by the pas
however sad or various"
"Were you ever in Italy, sir7" said tn
stranger host, after some conversation o
other matters.
NA, ~