The Davenport gazette. [volume] (Davenport, Scott Co., Iowa) 1841-185?, 1852-01-08
DoNATELLo,s STATUE OF ST. GEORGE.

/ 1ue StdtuS III 81. ocoI&c stoOo III tlS ~
| tisl's studio; all Florence came to look q
, il; all examined il with eager curiosity; a
: admired It with cagerness; all pronounce
liz the master piece Of Donatello. Th
. whole town were in raptures, and Lowell
ladies' as they bent from their carriages I
} answer the salntes fthe princes and dukes
instead u the common. place frivoli,ies 0
fashion, said, Have you seen the nev
lstatue Of DonateiloY
] Is there an art like that Of sculpture
} Painting ~ brilliant illusion--a lovely
cheat. Sculpture, while it represents !
reality, is itselfa reality. The pencil pourl
its fervid hues upon perishable canvass
land they fade with the passing air; but tl1t
chisel works 10 eternal marble-strikes ou
creation as immortal as the globe, ane
beautiful as the soul.
i Il told thee, Donatello,' said Lorenzo
lahou wouldst excel all thy rivals
sFling by thy chisel now cried another
|.,hou cnnst add nothing to that
i shall cease hereafter my devotion te
the antique cried third.
The power Of Phidias! exclaimed one.
sThe execution OF Praxitles! said an
other.
you will draw yotaries from Venus
whispered soft Italian girl as she turned
her melting eyes on the old man.
sThe Apollo will hereafter draw bis bow
unhecded,' cried an artist whom they
thought the best Of the day.
Among the crowd who flocked to the stu.
dio Of Donatello, there was youth who
had given some promise Of excellence
Many said that with immense study, be
might one day mike bis name be heard be-
yond the Alps, and some went SO far a. to
hint that in time he might tread close upon
the heels even Of Donatello himself; but
these were sanguine men, and great friends
of the young man; besides they spoke a,
random. They called this student Micha
Angelo.
| lie had stood long time regarding j,
with fixed eyes and folded arms. He walk
ed from one position TO another, measured
j, with his keen glnnces from head to foot,
regarded il befbre. behind, and studied It's
profile from various points. The venera
oe Donatello saw him, and awaited his
long and absorbed examination with the
fsttered pride Of an artist, and the atfrc-
,ionste indulgence Of father. At length
Michael Angelo stopped once more before
it, inhaled a long breath, and broke the pro
found silence. III wants only one thing,
muttered the gifted boy.
Tell nie,s cried the successful artist.
'what it wants. This is the first censure
which my ST. George has elected. Can
improve? Can I alier7 Is il the clay or the
marble? Tell me9' But the critic had dis
nppeared.
Donaiello knew the mighty genius Of Mi
chnl Angelo. He had beheld the flashes
Of the sacred fire, and watched the develop
ment Of the God within him.
.Diablo,' cried the old man. sMichal
Angelo gone to Rome, and not one word #
advice about my statue! The scape grace
Blu, shall sec him again, or, by the mass.
II will follow him 10 the Eternal City. His
opinion is worth that Of oil the world! Bat
one thingr He looked at it again--he Lis
tened to The mnrmurssof applause which il
drew from all who bsheid it-a placid smile
settled on his face. sBut ono thing
what can it be?'
Years rolled on. Michael Angelo remain
ed at Rome, or made excursions to other
places, hut had not vet returned to Flor
ence. Wherever he had been men regard.
ed him as a something fiery, terri
BILE, tremendous, sublime. His fame spread
over the globe; what his chieel touched, il
hallowed He spurned the dull clay, and
struck his vast end intensely brilliant con-
|ceptions at once from the marble. Mich@
Angelo was name to worship-a spell Of
the arts-an honor to I,aly-to the world.
What be praised, lived; what be condemn
led, perished.
As Donotello grew Older, bis anxiet,
grew more intense 10 know what tho inspi
red eyes Of the wonderfnl artist had de-
tecied in bis great state.
Al length the immortal Florentine turn.
ed his ewes to bis native republic, and, as
he reached the summit Of the hill which
rises on the eide Of Portd Romano, he be-
held the magnificent and glorious dome
shining in the soft golden radiance Of the
setting sun, With the broad topped tower Of
the Palld.sa Pecchio lifted in the yellow
light, even as at this day il stands.
All, De.,h!can no worth ward thee off;
Must the inspired artists eye be dimmed.
his hand metionless, his heart still, and in.
ventive brain AZ dull as the clay he mod
elsf Yes, Donatello lies stretched on BIZ
las, couch and the light Of life is passing
from his eyes; vet even in that awful hour.
his thoughts turn on the wishes Of his pas,
Years. and he sent for the Fioren,ine ar
fist His friend came instsn,lv.
81 am exhausted. Michel; nv chisei is
idle, nv vision 10 feeble; hu, feel thy hand,
my noble boy. and hear thy kind breas,
sob. lglosv in thy renown; predicted
IL, and bless nv Creaior thst have lived
10 see il; but before sink into the tomb.
charge thee on thv friendship, on thy re.
ligion, answer nv question truly"
.As | am man, will"
"Then tell me. without eqnivocation,
WIN, II il nv 81. George wants?"
"The gift Of Speech" was the reply.
A glenm Of sun.hiae fell across the old
mans face. The smile fingered on nj
lids long after ke lay cold ns the marb'e
on which he had 50 often stamped the con-
rep,inna ofhis genius,
Tia ststpe remaips the admiration n,