Wheeling times and advertiser. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1839-1849, 1843-08-23
RECoLLECrlONs OF TmE GIFTED.
CLAUDE VERNET.
By ELIZABKIH YoUArr.


public conveyance, a some What rude al
iair started to Marseilles Among the
passengers vas youth meanly clad,
with high intellectual brow, and
laughing eyes, who seemed the very
persouIhcatiOu Of hope and happiness,
aud even sang TO himself as they rolled
along.
"lou seem very merry, my lad" said
one OF his fellow travellers, on whose
ear the voice Of the boy fell pleas antly,
reminding him of the home ne was leav-
ing.
"Why should mott am young"
"And are the young always happy,
think your"
"'For the most par" replied the youth.
And there was more truth in his words
than the cynics Of the present age are
willing 10 allow.
"You are from Avignon,n said the
hrst speaker, fare you not2''
t"Ay,snd so proud Of mybirth place that
could wish 1t might one day be proud
OF ME2"
His companion evidently did not un-
derstand hun, and spoke no more,and tho
boy amused himself by throwing money
-ot which heaven knows he had none
to spare-among the beggars, as they
crow I'D about the vehicle, or exchang-
ing 1t Tor flowers among the bright eyed
peasant girls.
"You should be rich," said his fellow
traveller, AT length Gin order to indulge
yourself thus"
The boy made no answer, the whole
expression Of his face had changed-it
was pale and earnest, and yet still radI.
ant-and following the direction Of his
flashing e es, the man aid, with care
less smile,
why, it is only the az
stop" exclaimed the youth an j the
driver paused at the passionate tones Of
his voice, half in fear.
This is not Marseilles,'' said the lat
ter.
"No matter, shall proceed no farther
10 night"
"As you WILL" replied the man; and
the traveller and he exchanged looks
with each other. and whel the boy was
Out OF sight, the driver said, compassion
Rtely-
''Poor hoy! he is surely mad. las re
no moiherF'
But was he TO be pitied! as he stood
mus with outstretched arms and waving
halr by the sea shore-watch the
mighty waves roll up even to her very
feet, and then go mur.nu iEg back with
sweet song, as if wooing him in their
treacherous beauty to folIow-wordIess,
motIonlesa, like thing Of stone, until
the Promethean fire of glorious inspi.
ration wooed him back again TO life: an
ningingg himself upon the ground, he
lay there until suuseI-a sunset the
memory OF which never eft him from
that hour.
lie reached Marseilles with little die
hcuity, and embarked at that port for IL
ally. But the voyage was not destine
TO be prosperous one, for a wild storm
coming on, the crew and passengers be-
look themselves to their prayers, expect.
Ing every moment would be their last. |
there was one there, a mother, with |
mothers heart, and she alone, in that
hour OF dissolution and abandonment. |
missed from among them the bright eyed
boy, who but an hour ago she had liken- |
ed IN her pride to what her own fair
chill, whom she had not seen for wears. |
might then be. And when she asked
concerning him Of The sailors.they poin.
ted TO a slight form Iashed 10 the mast.
which swayed to and fro, and even crack.
ed before the tempest.
1T was his own wish" says thew.
and 1t matters not since we must all per.
ish.' ~'' P'i
And then, even above the hurricane
arose the clear tones Of the bows Glad
voice, as he tossed up his arms and
shouted aloud in his wonder and admira.
ton.
Al length the storm passed away, and
they took him down, half insensible
from cold and exposure to the elements
The mother laid his head in her lap,
and wrung the water from his long hair
bending down 10 catch the WHISPERED
accents which fell from his white, but
smiling lips.
"lt was a glorious sight - exclaimed
the boy.
ado you speak of the storm, nv
''Ah, yes! those dark, boiling waves
and the white sea foam, how beautiful
they we're ! But the tints will be diff.
cult to realize. Where are INV crayonsp'
And he half arose as it in search Of
them, and then, weary and exhausted.
sunk back again and slept. From thai
hour Claude Werner became almost ex.
clustvely marine painter.
We next find our young artist al Rome
wandering for whole days together with
his tablets in hi hand. efaonf,o ~. 80.