Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1849-1856, 1849-12-13

And breath il on his brow.
With a llp all faded and pale with pain,
That hath wrung the heart and reached
the brain.
The reckless extravagancc Of the
wife of Luis knew no bounds, and be
had, repeatedly, to write home for mon
ey. Mr.. St. Lucas always forwarded
it without demurring though Iilllas
saw that it caused him much uneasi-
ness, and she redoubed her efforts to
render his life happy, Most sensible
did he feel all this and he felt, too,
that the young heart Of that poor child
was dying. Ills son had struck the
blow-he knew it-no other did.
With packet Of letters, that Luis
sent home, wa, an exquisite painting
for Lillas.
"And," he wrote, ''therc is little
history about it, which is the reason
| have selected this from among mass
OF rich and rare pIctures-more finish
ed, more classical, more artistlcal, per-
haps, than this, though not so truthful
by the same high hand. And one
other thing, the lady here SO strongly
resembles you, my own sister. The
same light, graceful figure, the droop-
nr shoulders and small, symmetrical
throat, half hidden, half revealed
through the long lite.llke tresscs that
would rain hide the dazzling fairness
from view. Such was my sister when
last saw hcr--a child-but some
years have passed since then. And the
whole Wild tracery, aud scenery ex-
hibited here, methinks | have secn
somewhere i'll my wanderings or my
dreams. The inclosure, the trees, the
vines. and wild flowers, and the ledges,
the broken sunlight and the qulverlng
forrest foliage and that pale recIuSe
listening to that angel one, hare seen
lie is my fricnd-an artist and author
of high renown. His works are I'M
passioucd and powerful. They seem
drawn from hevcry depths of proud,
Gifted, sensitive, and charitable heart
Yet charity. with Mr.. Melville, seems
to be given power
But l was going to give you the his
tory Of the picture. The author HIM
self the hero. He is not yet forty
vet sorrow, more than time, has silver
ed his hair and marked his Lrow. lie
has been married but wife and child
are now no more. He has been crush
cd TO earth by the worlds coldness, and
non-appreciation of his talents and his
works. He could not thus endure 1T.
and fled from it. And this represents
/ the lonely seclusion where, for long
wears, he lived, wasting, as he says,
his time and his gifts. But they were
only maturing there. And he has
brought forth from the mines Of earth
treasures that will never die n monu-
ment to his Immortality oh! who, he
said. he hated and scorncd the world,
This fair stranger came 10 him from
|. heaven, he almost thinks, and told him
ofhis waste of time, of his selfish III
dulgcncc, of his duties, obligations,
and the end Of his being-to do good
to live for others. Thus awoke his
slumbcring conscience, aroused his en-
erce., and he is now an eminent artist
and celebrated author"
/ 1t is needless to say that Lillias re-
cognizcd IN the painting the Haunted
| Glen. the hermit, and herself 1t was
magic picture, ably executed, and
with frame Of fretted silver And
| beneath the figure Of the lady, Lllias
. had ,ketched with a pencil the lines
/ she had found left in the strangers
! cell.
Ere another year, Mr.. ST Lucas
wa, laid in the grave lie had been
slowly and surely declining some
months The cankcring cause was tho
expenditures of his own son, or, rather
that sons wife abroad Ills death wa'
universally lamcu,cd but the rcmarl
was made, "llc has LEFT lis widow AZ,
Lilllas IN easy clrcumstances.' Bu
this was not true. Every cent of hl
property would scarcely cover HI
dcbts Mrs s. Lucas staggered bc