The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, 1855-04-06
Sin sntfregtit1y 5targ.
J he Secret Of 1omsQic 0.

1N the days of old, in days when painters
lived in paint, not painted TO live when they
were the missionaries Of art and not its trades
men, sacrificing for its sake, fortune, friends,
country; Drawing for its sake the curse of
parents, the tyranny Of despots in such days
Domenico, pupil of Van Eyck, opened u
school of painting in one Of the large towns
of Italy Though deficient in the truth, ORR
gina!ity, and simplicity of thought that char
acterised the earlier masters, yet the secret
of giving pcrmanency and durability to his
colouring had raised him far above all his
contemporaries, He alone knew that mix
ing oils with his colours fixed them upon the
canvass, and preserved them for posterity,
while those of every other painter, from their
want of consistency, either fell off in drops
while wet, or in scales when dry. Conse-
quently, he was tho painter most in vogue
! and the best painte: or woman especially of
young women, with the black eye and rich
complexion. The secret Domcnico had
learned from, his master Van Eyck, who had
bequeathed it to him on his dcath-bed and
he had determined also to reserve the disclo-
sure till he, too, was at the point of death
Meanwhile, every other artist was condemn
ed to waste in vain efforts genius greater
than his, inspirations more divine. Nothing
remained of their sublime creations; their
paintings Of the most exquisite mechanism,
of the most perfect design, melted away un-
der their hands. Deep the modification,
terrible the vexation, that one man in his
avarce and selfishness should possess unshar-
ed, and pililessly engross, the magic power
of uniting for ever the canvas and the colour
ing. He had, however, from amid his nu-
merous pupils already made his selection of
the tavoured mortal who was one day to re-
ccive the precious bcquest. The young
Castano possessed wonderful strength and
freedom of pencil and already he needed
, nothing but his masters secret to surpass
him, as wellas his feow-pupils. Often had
he watched Domenico at work; often had
he supplicated him as fervently as he did his
| God, and pledged to him tho devotion of
his whole life, if he would but impart to
to him the talisman, But the master was
! iuexorable. "At my DEATH" he said, "and
not till then" And the master was mot
much older than the pupil. He was his con-
slant associate and in conversation he used
| frequently to tell him that to carry ont his
secret to perfection, he had need to be i'll full
possession of all his senses; that it is. all
over with painter at siXty-colouring be-
ing impossible to eyes dimmed with age
Now. when it is borne in mind that while
he was saying all this he was vigorous as the
hardy oak, not one wrinkle, one gray hair to
belle the hope of life to be prolonged far
beyond sixty, and that all this was said to a
man younger, indeed. but of weaker consti-
tuition, of inpetuou5 feeling, of ardent and
exciteable temperament, can we wonder that
! this delay made the promise seem to him buta
mockery of his passionate impatience? In that
fiery nature curiosity took the form of a pas
sion-a passion sanctied to him by the love
of that art, the progress of which was, as it
were, bound up with its qualification. Hence
forth his every energy, his every faculty, was
concentrated upon the discovery of the secret.
1t was his ''thought by day, lis dream by
night; itseemed to ''absorb his whole SOUL
to drink up his very life.
One morning all Domenico's pupils
were assembled, and discussing, as was their
wont, with more or less show OF reason, their
masters secret, Castano sat by himself in
corner of the painting-room, buried in
thought Ii needs must be some subject
Of deep and momentous import that could
thus absorb the whole man. His pencil had
dropped fom his hand, yet hc heard not
what was passing around him. For some
time he had lost his usual fresh colour and
his accustomed gaetys His pale and sun
ken cheek, with its premature wrinkles, be-
spoke the fierce Struggle that shook his in.
most soul That morning he seemed more
than usually agitated. What thoughts were