The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1848-02-19
Washington Allstou.


the "reminiscences Of a visit To his studio:
There are no recollections more useful
than those connected with departed worth.
The memory Of the good operates as tai
isman against evil spirits; they come not
near the place hallowed by the recollection
of the pure on earth, who are now the bleS-
sed in Heaven.
1t is refreshing to the mind and heart to
quit this everyday working world, and
dwell on genius and excellence, as We knew
them embodied, with the certainty that no
blight can come over them, and that they
are safe from the viciSSitudes of human
change.
A visit to the studio of WAsHNGroN
ALLsToS, was always deeply interesting;
but now he is no more, the recollection
of il is like one OF his own pictures, soft
ened and blended Icy an eHal atmosphere.
On the morning Of cold autumnal day,
was invited by him TO visit his painting
room. As We proceeded to ii, at short
distance from his house, the leaves were fall
ing around, and the foliage had assumed
the variety of tints so striking in our Amer
lean scenery. His residence was a few
miles from the city of Boston, and not far
distant from the classic halls of Cambidge
University; it was one which happily COM
bined retirement, with opportunities for so
ciety.
When We arrived AT the large unoma-
mented building, he requested me to wait
in a little porch or ante-room, while he made
a few preparations. In a short time | was
summoned. The room was large and I'M
furnished, lighted 10y a sky-light, and win
dows near the ceiling. Before one Of his
beautiful pictures, vet unfinished, was pla-
ced an armchair. To this he conducted
me, saying, with a smile: al have been
sweeping a place for you; | seldom pay
my guests such compliment.
On the easel before me was the picture
of King John, nearly completed. 81 in
tend" said he, 'to devote the next six
months TO this, and when it is finished, |
shall give myself little time for visiting
my friends in Boston," Ii was a noble
picture and seemed TO me hardly to require
six months Of labor.
Against the wall hung a curtain, extend
ing nearly across the bsilding. Behind this
was his "Belshazzar," already the work Of
MANY years. Would that handwriting
on the tcGU had warned him to hasten the
completion.
A finished picture stood on an easel,
which he called the sisters; one Of the
heads was in the rich glowing coloring of
Titan. twas singularly calculated to call
forth the imagination; a histonette seemed
at once to presen: itself TO the mind.
He took a number Of unfinished sketches
from closet; among them was one repre-
senting the fairies dispensing at the dawn of
day; some were ascending, others lowering
in mid-air; two yet fingered on the sea
shore; they were lovers, and too deeply alb
sorbad in each other to heed the orient tinge
Of morning. This was one Of his happy
touches Of nature.
He also exhibited a number Of sea
sketches, but little more than outlined, yet
all full of life and meaning. The gather
ing storm was perfectly delineated; the
heavy and threatening cloud, the rushing
wind, and mountain wave; and there too,
was the traveller Of the deep, noble vessel,
struggling with the elements.
One sketch he exhibited in a more finish
ed state. Ii was the Una of his Gsvorite
Spenser, sleeping in a wood. The wood,
the waterfall, and the whole of the land
scape were before you, and on one side the
recumbent form Of the graceful Una, the
representative OF truth.
81 was satisfied with my sketch Of the |
landscape and the figure, said the master,
''bUt after all, it was only girl sleeping in |
a wood suddenly the idea arose to my
mind Of making all the light Of the picture
proceed from the figure, and found my de-
sire at once accomplished.
What a noble effect Of his pencil, 10 pro-
duce such an illustration Of the light Of
truth ID was beautiful sketch. 1 could |
not turn my eyes from it; as we both stood
looking at it. he repeated, in his clear, low
voice, the following lines from the third
csnto Of Sponsors "Fairie Queeae:"
"From her fayre head her fiIlet she undight, |
And lsy'd her state aside her angel face,
As the great eve Of Heaven shyned bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place
Did never mortal eve behold such heavenly |
grace"
He had but one more step to take, TO
complete the originality of his design, and
that was, to exclude all other rays OF light
from the picture, making Una the Sun.
urged him most earnestly TO finish the
picture. 81 think, said he, ''of taking the
same design, and making Una as large as
Efs."
"But why not complete this, first 2"
asked. |
81 cannot do both, " he replied; at would
take too much time"
had pTesentiment that Una's fate was
sealed, and that the light Of truth, as there
represented, would never irradiate our low
er world. was right; the sketch alone
remains.
He related the little anecdote OF Spenser,
when Poet Laureate to Elizabeth, which
has been recorded elsewhere. She thought
his salary Of fifty pounds unequal to his
merit, and requested Burleigh to make him
a present of one hundred pounds. The
minister replied that il was "too much for
song" ''Give him, then" said the maiden
Queen, ''as much as you ought in reason"
Burlsigh, not exactly appreciating the ge-
MUS Of song, did nothing. At length Eliz.
abeth received from her Poet Laureate, this
inpromPtp: u