The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-02-17

imprinted on The cheek and chin; the deli
cate mouth is thoughtful and melancholy,
the nose is slender at its rise, and slightly
tinged with blue, as the azure veins shone
through the fair transparency of the skin;
the eyes are Of that dark heavenly hue
which the Apennine wears at the approach
of dawn; they gaze earnestfy forward, but
are slightly raised to heaven, as though they
ever looked higher than nature; liquid
lustIe illuminates their Utmost depths, like
rays dissolved in dew or tears. On the
scarcely arched brow. beneath the delicate
skin, we trace the muscles, those responsive
chords of the instrument Of thought; the |
temples seem TO throb with reflection; the |
ear appears to listen; the dark hair, unskil- |
fully cut by sister, or some young COM
panion Of the studio, throws dark tint
upon the hand and cheek, and a small cap
Of black velvet, placed on the crown Of
the head, shades the brow. One cannot
pass before this portrait without mnsing
sadly, one knows not why. 1t represents
the reverie OF youthful genius pausing on
the threshold of its destiny. What will be
the fate Of that soul standing at the portal
Of life!
Now, in idea, add six ears to the age Of
that dreaming boy; suppose the features
holder, the complexion more bIonzed; place
few burrows on the brow, slightly dim the
look, sadden the lips, give height to the
figure, and throw out the muscles in holder
relief; let the Italian costume Of the days
Of Leo \. be exchanged for the sombre
and plain uniform of youth bred in the
simplicity of rural life, who seeks no ele-
gance in dress, and if tie pensive and Ian
guild attitude be retained, you will have the
striking likeness Of our "Raphael'' at the
age of twenty.
He was OF poor, though ancient family,
. from the mountainous province of Forez,
and his father, whose sole dignity was that
of honor (worih all others,) had, like the
mobiles of Spain, exchanged the sword for
the plough. His mother, still young and
handsome, seemed his sister. so much did
they resemble each other. She had been
bred amid the luxurious elegancies of a
capital; and as the balmy essence Of the
rose perfumes the crystal vase OF the Sc
raglio in which il has once been contained
so she, too, had preserved that fragrant
atmosphere Of manners and language which
never evaporates entirely.
In her secluded mountains, with the loved
husband Of her choice, and with her chill
dren, in whom she had complacently cen
tired all the pride of her maternal heart
she had regretted nothing. she closed tn,
fair book Of youth at these three words
''God, husband, children" Raphael espe
cially was her best beloved. She would
have purchased for him a kingly destiny
but, alas! she had only her heart with which
to raise him up, for their slender forum,
and their dreams Of prosperity, would eve
and anon crumble to their very foundation
beneath the hand of fate.
Two holy men, driven by persecution t.
the mountains, had, soon after the Reign o
Terror, taken refuge in her house. The
had been prosecuted as members of mys
teal religious sect which dimly predicte'
a renovation Of the age. They Loves
Raphael, who was then mere child, and
= obscurely prophesying his fate, pointed on
his star in the heavens, and told his mothe
: TO watch over that son with all her heart
She rePrOached herself for being too credu
i ous, for she was very pious, but still sh
= believed theml la such matters, a mothe
q is so easy of belief Her oredulity sup
= ported her under many trials, but spurret
Is her to efforts beyond her means to educat
: Raphael, and ultimately deceived her.
= had known Raphael since he was twelv
= years old and next to his mother he love,
c me best Oh earth. We had met since tn
. conclusion Of our studies first in Paris, lhel
: at Rome, whittier he had been taken b,
= one of his fathers relatives, for the purpos
> Of copying manuscripts in the Vatical
r Library. There he had acquired the i'm
= FASHIONED language and genius of Italy,
He spoke Italian better than his mothe
> tongue. At evening he would sit beneat
: the pines of the Villa Pamphili, and gain
= on the setting sun and On the white frag
ments scattered or the plain, like tn
bleached bones Of departed Rome, woul
e pour forth extemporaneous stanzas tina
n made US weep. But never wrote; 'Ra
= phael, would / sometimes says why d
il you not writeP
e 'Ahp would he answer, does the win
Ii write what it signs in this harmonious can
e opy of leaves' Does the sea write tn
}, wall of its shores? Naught that has bee
5 written is truly, really Beautiful, and tn
l. heart of man never discIoses its best an
at most divine portion. Ii is impossible
lie The instrument is Of flesh, and the note
al of fire. Between what is felt, and what
Of expressed, would he add, moumlully, ther
1t is the same distance as between the sou
l. and the twenty-six letters of an alphabe
ID immensely of distance! Think you flut
e Of reeds can give an idea Of the harmon
ir of the spheres?'
re left him to return to Paris. He was
n that time striving, through his mothers ir
We terest, TO obtain some situation in which
might by active employment remove fror
m his soul its heavy weight, and tighten tn
We oppressive burden of his fate. Men of hi
own age sought him, and women locke
of graciously on him as he passed them by
We But he never went into society. and of a
ne women he loved his mother only.
re We suddenly lost sight of him for tire
al years; though we afterwards learned tht
ne he had been seen in Switzerland, German,
OF and Savoy; and that in winter he passss
II many hours Of his nights on bridge, or
ID one of the quays OF Paris. He had all m