The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1847-09-18

and oces.s.nalIy - biting Blast hail and and
entered - holls1-just beyond, There, not
wholly ~ ded fro. nor yet beaho1 the whole
weight q 4he teu6lot, found nnle hover
II bent Al shivess1 bind tear lsy1e its cenire,
vet il Ieoked upwnua sadly, but - altogether :
w;,hnuf None. "a WI test t-sesW FARTHER, i
said. and pulled a petal, another, and another
tSti il claimed no regard from the so'i Denestn'
no shelter from the low shrubs around; steaoi'y
| il continued gazing on the cold unsymPainizing
sky. A whole volume of instruction gs'he'o"
| from that simple blossom.
| Higher up the stream there is a succession OIL
cascades filling the glen with GOODNESS and meio-
dy. Clear end celd - that 81 the -Chteinnns
when Pliny stood upon its shores, hows the wa
ter. rounding and polishing the dark rocks to its
own mellow music. Here il falls In blue
mass purer than the crystal Of the laPidary'
| there il runs over q broad stone, and driPs dow
its stained and messy sides Now there are Two
currents, and now, united, they play ana edoy
| in basin scooped out by their own restless mo-
ton. Sitting with the foam circling at your
feet. and tho spray-drops falling upon you in
dewy showers, you may pass the iive-long ss.a-
mer day without being once reminded Of the
busy, working world. Galleries cut in the pre-
cip;ces upon either hand, are covered with
moses, green and brown and gold, and climbing
plants, loaded with flowers or fruit, wreafhe
every projecting, and every sharp angle OF the
rough crag. From above the pine and the larch
the birch and aspen, the maple and the elm cast
the hue Of emeralds.
One glorious May-day l went there with .
friend, an artist He was young and ardent
full of genius and fancy, not wholly without
religious sentiment, yet destitute Of WHOLESOME
ed, earnest piety. He carried his sketch-boeh
and pencil, and /, volume Of quaint old poems
Descending the bank, we crePt silently along
terrace, occasionally letting ourselves down thu
steep, by the aid Of overhanging bushes Pre-
senily we heard the solemn, beseeching tones o
prayer, and saw, through the green network,
young girl kneeling upon a fiat rock, which
jutted almost across the stream Around ne
delicate features fell tresses Of rich auburn, ant
her long lashes lay upon cheeks rendered color
less by sorrow. She was the only child Of
desolate, broken hearted widow, and her lot wa
dark and eheerless. We were Just turnin,
away, when she thus beautifully concluded he
orison. "And above all, o. my Father. thani
Thee, that my thought answers unto thine Sh'
rose, and shower Of rays pierced the mist
wreath which hosted around her head. crown
ing her with halo Of brightness.
The artist stood fixed to the spot. He saw
neither the golden garland, nor the humble wor
shipper, nor the sparkling brook. He was ga
ling upon the distant past. He strained his in
ner ear TO re-gather the echoes which his sou
had made to its Creators touch. The difficult
almost suppressed, respiration told that the re
view was painful Tho lines upon his brow
were traced too deep for erasure; his lips wer
apart as if they could not be again united. III
quilted the bough he had grasped; exclaiming
.'Oh. God. in my whole life no thought ha
answered unto thine" lie was left alone
One hour, on that glorious may day, he gave 4
self examination. He returned then TO GU
friend, not with the joyous gayety a earl,
morning, but with tender regretful sadness
He became now student Of the Bible, wei
as lover of nature, and near the mountain
stream, and amid its beauties, where first he re
ceved his religious impressions, he gained hi
deepest, most permanent religious feeling.
And what, the reader may ask. became of tn
artist In leafy valley stands small ston
parsonage, green lawn before il, and dotte'
with elms. An antique church is near nv: it j
visible from the study-windows There sit
the man of God. A gentle being, fair tn
white rose, is his companion. They look, witt
happy tears, upon an exquisitely flushed pic
ture of white winged cascade, and femal
Ing mist, and call it-THE ARTISTS LESSON.