The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1845-09-27


fell no more upon path; the hum of my mothers
bees, which had been az the music Of the sunbeams
sounded in my ears; the willow, planted
by my father on my brthdaywhich had grown to be
a tree while was yet child on longer waved a.
bove my head. We lodged in a small room OF n
small house in neighboring vInge, small, clean
room, furnished out Of what seemed our abundance;
window sill crowded with plants such as my father
loVed-thr perishable yet records of afIec-
ton. Our dog our household friend, shared our ex
lie; but even that had little sympathy with; my
mind was bent on things above my REACH but not be-
yond my desires. My mother worked at her needle
and taught me all she knew, and every half penny
could procure, could earn-ior was beggar- by
little acts Of usefulness laid in purchasing pa
per and pencils did not know then what being an
artist meant; but knew that should like to copy
my fathers picture, to draw the scenes Of Inv enrv
childhood, TO depict the particular scene that was
burnt into my heart; TO grow by some means rich
and powerful, so that might be revenged on the
unjust judge This last resolve dared not to impart
TO my mother, from a consciousness that it was one
she disapproved the most And yet that man bought
pictures and hung them his walls; and people eu-
ogized his lberaly and praised his taste; and that
is it not strange, inquired the young painter that
man can tell what is excellent canvass, and have
no appreciation for what is excellent in life; can un.
derstand what is natural when delineated by the
painters art be touched by painted tears and yet be
utterly incapable Of feeling and combining the sensa
tons which spring from nature? Is not this rsos,
strange and CONTRADICTORY
told him he would not think so when he had seen
of the world, and undentood how many con-
tending currents meet and struggle within the heart
OF man. Perhaps you are already tired Of the young
artists tale! like, old as am, to hear of stuggIes
Of difficulties overcome, of mountains scaled by hardy
enterprise, of seats upon their pnnacies and spike
words Of hope to him. which fell like rain upon fer
tile soil-(or his mind large treasure house
Of poverty. And then he related much of the past or
his prvatons he evidently did not think; bu, his
mother's sorrows, lessened as they must have been
by cheerful industry and ghtened by the knowledge
of his innate talent, dwelt upon his memory Yet he
confessed to moments Of most keen enjoyment; the
calmness OF the Sabbath evening" when he music oc
the bell had ceased, and the Of the preacher
the melndy Of the moral hymn, chanted by infant
voices, mingled with the percumed ar:--when The
worship was over, and playing with pencil, ~hich
his mother wished him mot 10 use on Sunday, she
read within her little room the scenes from Holy
Wr,which praised lie God have taught many paint
ers the road to immortality! And when obliged TO
labor in the fields his dur; eye drank in the magic
hue Of loud and rainbow and sunshine and shadow;
in truth he said the more he saw of nature the weak
eT grew his purpose of revenge towards che unjust
judge The beauties Of the beautiful world sofened
his spirit; but when he looked upon his mothers
hands hardened by labor, or saw her feeble frame
bending with more than woman's weakness, his pur-
pose revived, the agonzing stamped upon that
canvass rose before him, and as he grew older, he
determined, and that he lived TO be man., to do
what you see he did accomplish.
Several years before, (for an artists talent is long
budded before it bIossoms,) while his patio was yet
in its infancy the who had acted cruelty left
his neghborho cd and came TO reside near London -
He paid visit his property but onceaud then Off
cred his patronage the boy artist, he had in ur-
ed; by whom | am proud to say, it Indignantly
refused. The gentleman was bitterly hurt at this,
for he would have greatly enjoyed the notorety of
'Dringing out such extraordinary talent How die
rerent from the warm and noble zeal which makes
and bears the torch to light the path ofgenius! But
| grow prosy, said my old friend, and will hasten
onward; the desire Of the young artist that this
picture might he placed where it could be to adj
vantage; HE had grown out Of the memory of his
mothers prosecutor, and had resolved TO sard where
he might watch by it TO the effect j. would pro-
duce--not upon the world but upon him whose in
justice he had depicted with SO powerful pencil.
'If' he said, Il could but him change color; if
cord perceive the least Indication that he felt the
proof that the circumstance recalled; that the
power he had crushed into the dust had risen and
stood before him reprove his Injustice; if could on
y make him feel, should be satisfied; it is now all
the revenge covet'
But his MOTHER enquired.
She still lives,' the reply; and then my old
friend informed mo that his (the atist's) resolution
on this subject almost amounted TO insanity; he fan
ced his picture would work miracle; soften hard
heart! change the current of mans blood; alter his
nature Like all those who live alone. and who
Judge or mankind from themselves, his information,
his conception Of human character, seemed as con-
lraced as his imagination was vast and vivid; and IN
addition 10 this he suffering from constitutional
constituencies, which made him far more susceptible
than rational men supposed TO be.