The Belmont chronicle, and farmers, mechanics and manufacturers advocate. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1848-1855, 1853-11-04
ST. OLATRSVlLLE, ONO, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER A. 1853.

;,
ssI loved hcf, uud I loss her---thst 10 m,
story, briefly and fully. SThe old story. She
was the daughter of a wealthy house. the
poor artist Month after month, year aftel
year, had grown rich in the outpouring sun
shine of her eyes. was admitted, favored
petted, and was it strange that was foo
enough to believe was lovedl There were
times when / had reason to think so. But ]
Twill not blame her. never have blamed her
She was good, noble, beautiful, but she was
in, and she was Of, the world, and schooled
in all its lessons Of what was proper and what
was most desirable. II was not her fault that
they made her soul SO cold in body so fitted
to be loved. 1t was once different. In gay
childhood, nay, in later years, she had wealth
o: pure warm feeling in her heart, and some-
times it gushed out. But year after year it
was repressed till she had command over it,
and sometimes think it was best SO. She
never loved me. thought she did, but was
wrong, and when the truth came in on me
with binding force it made me mad. That
love had been my life. You lawyears, who
deal in constant excitement, in the passions
of other men, and all whose lives are among
men, know nothing of the artist. Solitary
and alone from sunrise TO sunset, he studies
his own soul, and its treasured images. One
exquisite scene, one beautiful thought, lives
for years in his brain and is his mental food,
until it is exhausted, or until another takes
Its place, and when that one is so beloved
that he neither looks for nor desires another,
then it becomes part of his soul, his very
being. 1t lends color to his imaginations, it
guides his pencil, it pervades his work. Go
where he will, it is the same one fixed star
before his soul, toward which, like the nee-
die, it turns with unerring, immutable afec-
tion. have wondered whether any woman
has thought of what it is to be loved by an
artist. as ..-...s..
The change came. Twill not tell you
how, or when, or where. Enough that look
ed once into her speaking face, once into her
deep fathomless eyes, and finding there the
cold, calm gaze of complete worldly woman
hood, went out from her presence forever.
| will not rehearse the pain that followed.
Why, man, had worshpped nothing for
years and years except that growing, glorious
beauty The astrologer who had named
star and worshipped it night and morning for
fourscore years, felt not half the sense Of ag-
ony, when he saw it vanish out of heaven,
that then felt. And this was separate
feeling from wounded love. kept all that
by ITSELF The first great feeling was that
had lost my idol. Ant l wandered up and
down the world, seeking an ,ther nvain. For
years was rowing artist, never approaching
a city. At length saw this glen, and lk-
ed it. bought this piece of ground for tri-
Ue and built the hut. / live quietly and calm.
ly, selling little fruit in summer for the pur-
chase Of what need in winter. .r-.l.,
THE old idolatry has not been reused for
thirty years or more. I have not painted in
twenty years. find this life better. I am
alone here. No one disturbs me. never
read. seldom think. live, that's all.
"'Sometimes have dreamed. Not Of late
years, though. And she has come back to
me in all the ravishing beauty Of her girlhood.
Those dreams were more blessed than the
reality, tor in them she loved me. But, in
truth, she never did. have lived for thirty
years, and since that parting, when she was
radiant in cold, calm spendor as the moon in
winter, and crushed down to earth, l have
not felt the clasp of her hand, looked into her
face, nor heard of her existance or her fate
till this day.p
so, that was shev
"Yes, that was she II was like fash
from heaven, that meeting her. was SO
calm this morning. walked SO happily down
the valley. had no thought Of this, and when
| raised my eyes and saw and knew her,
thought at first that would throw my arms
around her, and call her minel But the old
look was there unchanged,--the same cold
gaze of passionless worldliness; and 1t chilli
ed me as of old. 1t was hard to leave her
then, and how hard now! But the end is ap-
preaching rapidly. Do you see this1 (He
pointed to his white complexion and the red
cheek half covered by his beard.) The viii
lage doctor tells me it is consumption, and l
am soon to be part and parcel of the grouud
am treading on. did not wish this.
rather shrink from it now. But have been
looking about for snug place to lie, when
/ 60 to the rest needs must take, and have
found it. You have The story now " ~
al have given you as nearly as possible the
words Of the hermit" continued B., sand
have only omitted the details of his parting
with the object Of his love. half suspect
that she was cosuette, but he most earnest.
ly denied it, and did her all honor in his sto.
ry. His paintings and sketches were scat
tered around in much confusion, but they were
evidently the work of master hand. ibeg'
ged only this sketch, a pencil drawing of Me
dea, which think shows the features of the
portrait he first exhibited have given you
his story and you have mine. Such romancei
along railroads are not of every day occur
renee" g,.-...... ......
u When B. concluded his story, we wer'
approaching Middletown, in Orange County
near which station we are now resting for I
couple of days.
i Faithfully,
w.
i AN AUTUMNAL RETROSPECT.