Wisconsin tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1847-1854, 1853-10-13
of her works, he learned the syllables of
language only truly understood by the ar

! ed at the sight of the works of art which
| from time to time, were cast as waits up
on his path He named them through
his mothers teachings, angels gifts not
knowing whence they came but he did
not dream that bright beings were around
him. who watched the Developments Of
his mind, and patiently awaited the hour
when they might lead him out into the
great world of human beings, and tell him
of the power he possessed He knew not
that III silent sorrow, a glorious talent had
! been matured within him nor had he
ed and his eye kindled, before the faithful
pencil made of the beautiful images that
thronged upon his fancy, that Genius knew
him as her child, and dwelt delightedly
upon his name
| 1t was but the beautiful in creation
that reflected itself upon his soul His
hand had not yet learned to place the
good and evil side by side, leaving to 9TH
ers to make choice Of one or the other
He placed the pure alone upon his canvas,
while his soul was strengthened through
his labor, and the language of art became
| his own.
Violets were gathered with the Lilies
he had loved in earlier years. With their
blended perfumes flowing gently round
the boy l traced the close OF the second
period.
The third era, with the Rose shedding
beauty over it, arrested my attention by
the excessive brilliancy of its coloring and
! the exquisite images employed in its de-
velopment.
The scene no longer lay around or with
in the cottage l had at first behed. Up
on the wide ocean, single ship sailed
nobly onward, her PROV turned towards
the classic shores of Italy.
Many forms were gathered on her deck.
and prominent among them with the guile
less look of infancy mingling with the en-
thuslasm of genius, Earnest stood beside
hls mother the sunbeams of departing
day gllmmered upon the horizon, the west
ern heavens glowed with crimson light
that deepened into purple, and declined
through violet hues into the pale tint of
the upper sky, while the waters reflected
every hue, aud the few clouds that foated
as islands in a sea of light were but added
beauties to the view.
1t was a scene to thrill an artists heart :;
and In the countenance of Earnest [ could
trace q thousand feelings struggling for
utterance. More in that hour than ever
! IN his life before did Earnest long for
speech, but his tongue remained chained ;
aud overwhelmed by contending emotions,
he leaned (as in childhood be had donel
upon his mothers breast and wept Those
tears told of the storm of passion that had
been reused within his soul they were
the first drops of the rain that fell ere
long with fearful violence upon the be-
wildered Earnest.
The ship in time reached her destined
port. Through his mothers teaching, It
ally had become familiar ground to the
mute: he trod her soil for the first time
with an exulting step, and gazed up into
her blue sky with almost childish wonder
and delight. a studio in Italy, and
stranger faces looking admiring upon the
works that crowd it's walls, or with won
der and with reverence upon the artist
whose hand has wrought them. And he,
the same and yet how changed The
world is no longer mystery to him
the language taught in Spain by Ponce,
the Benedlctlne monk, had been revealed
to him IN Italy through it, knowledge
had poured iii upon his mind, and the feel
lngs of his tellow-meu were translated to
him through the books that they had writ
ten.
His works partook of the JOY that had
poured light upon his soul but with the
knowledge that he had gained, evil lad
been mingled.
The Lilies dropped from his side, but
still the Violets were bis own, and sweet
ly their perfume mingled with the fra
GRANGE of the Rose.
Once more the artists studio, but no
crowd now intruded upon its beauty
Bending over his easel, | beheld the form
OF Earnest; his luxuriant hair pushed
back from his brow his eyes, usually so
mild in their glance, burning with un-
wonted brilliancy His pencil rested up
on the canvas, and he seemed excited by
some mighty passion On the easel.
growing beneath his hand appeared form
of loveLiness and grace. This was no ideal.
The artist had bent his strongest powers
to transfer to canvas the features and ex-
preston of beautiful Italian girl one
whose beauty had answered to the longing
of the artists soul. And now his work
was completed. and for the last time he
bent entranced above it. The idol he had
reared within the secret chamber Of his
heart had become being endowed with
life. He loved, while all unconscious of
the danger be incurred, and knew it not.
until the gulf that so widely separated
him from his fellows yawned before his
dazzled gaze.
What wonder that he loved the being
whose smile caused his heart to bound and
kinded new fires within his eye, was beau
tiful as the land whose name she bore. -
In her pictured image, the glow of south
ern sun rested upon her cheek. while from
her low, broad forehead masses of dark
hair swept downward over her neck
Her eyes were more than beautiful there
was in them a softness that bewildered
whilst it charmed me. As | looked upon
the girl, wondered not at the love of the
solitary mute He could not hear the
voice that parted her rosy lips. but be