Southern sentinel. [volume] (Plaquemine, Parish of Iberville [La.]) 1848-1858, 1854-01-14
A True Story.

a True Story.
We find the following in Mr.. Richard s..
| Willis's musical print the "World and Tines"
of New York. The facts it relates reflect great
credit and honor upon himself, as well as upon
the late distinguished patron of young artists
the lamented Chickering, and We copy it with
pleasure, as a tribute to the desert of both:
Many years since u boy who thought and
dreamed of nothing but music, wandered into a
certain large establishment in Boston, where
his tayorite instruments were manufactured
Passing into the extensive saloons where these
instruments were displayed, he sought out a
quiet corner, and seating himself at one of
those magnificent painos, he FIRST looked around,
to be sure that no one was listening, and then
began to play some Of those beautiful waltzes
of Beethoven, which, at that time SO suited his
capacity and suited his heart. Borne away in
a delicious musical reverie, he did not for some
time observe, that a figure had stolen up to him
and was listening as he played. a benevolent
face over him, and 4 kind voice addressed words
of commentator and praise, which, being the
first the boy had received, sent the blood ting
ling to his cheeks. The proprietor of the es>
adjustment, for it was he, then asked the boy
if he would like to come and live among those
pianos, discoursing just such music to purcha-
sers, thHs forming, in Il word, i connection with
his establishment. But books and college
were before the boy, aud wandering at the
proposition, he timidIy thanked the proprietor
and declined.
Years passed away. School and college
were done with, and the books thrown aside
v1I,o ho,, hoI ra,.bA1 manhood. hut S,iil Tho
spirit of music haunted him, and again he found
himself in those spacious saloons. lie had just
ceased playing upon one Of those magnificent
instruments again, stood looking dreamily out
of the window, and down upon the crowded
Washington street below. Again a quiet fig
ure stole up to him, and u most musical voice
began to speak. The person before him was
of small stature, had the manners and garb ola
gentleman, was dressed in black, with a single
magnificent diamond pin in his bosom: the only
contrast in his appearance was the clean white
apron of 4 workman, which he wore. 1t was
the proprietor of the establishment again; who,
wealthy. as he was, had his own little working
cabinet, with an exquisite set Of tools, and there
put the finishing touch he entrusted to no one
else. The proprietor inquired kindly of the
young man rs to his plans for life. These,
alas. were undetermined. The voice CT music
was more fascinating than ever: but a learned
profession ofsome kind seemed to be the wishes
and expectations of his friends. Music, how-
ever, was his first and strongest love, and he
had sometimes thought, if he could 60 abroad
to study. he would decide orthat. But he was
poor. His father had given him his college
education and his blessing as capital for life
A harsh struggle with the world was before
him; music, therefore, Was hardly to be thought
of.
In the Guietest tone Of that low, pleasant
voice the proprietor, as though making an ordi-
nary remark, rejoined, well, but then, if the
sum of FIVE hundred dollars a year, for a period
of four years, would suit your purpose, | could
easily supply you with that"
The world grew dim before him, and the
young man almost staggered with surprise; but
when he recovered himself, there was the same
quiet gentleman standing beside him, and look
ing pleasantly out of the window.
Two months afterwards the young man sailed
for Europe, where he passed the allotted time,
and longer, from means with which his own
compositions in the meantime furnished him.
And whatever of knowledge, and whatever of
artistic culture, and whatever OF success in life.
rs connected with art, have since been his, be
ascribes entirely TO that most generous and nc
ble-hearted Nlecanas of art. And to the latest
day of his life will he never cease to cherish
the memory of his first and best friend.
That noble friend was Jonas Chickering, of
Boston, now lying cold in death, and that boy
is the present editor of the New York Musical
World-the writer of this artiule-aaa nothing
would have prevented aigrateful declaration OF
this noble deed, but the unwilling condition
absolutely impose of silence-that the circum-
stance should be revealed to none but parents.
But such a condition is surely cancelled by
death; an a Iong.repressed gratitude must, at
length, proclaim itself to the world.