Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1855-01-25
The Statue Of ST. George.

amined it with curiosity; all admired
| it with eagorness; all pronounced i
the masterpiece Of Donatello. The
whole town was in raptures, and love
lly ladies, as they bent from theil
carriages to answer the salutes OF the
Princes and Dukes, instead Of the
commonplace frivolities Of fashion
said: Have you seen the new statue
by Donatello?
Is there an art like that Of sculp
tuIe? Painting is brilliant Illusion
lovely cheat. Sculpture. while il
represents a reality, is ilsslf Feali.
ty. The pencil pours its fervid hues
upon perishable canvass, and they
fade with the passing air; but the
chisel works in eternal marble, strikes
out creation immortal as the globe,
and beautiful as the soul. fa i.
Il told thee, Donatello, said 10
renze, thou would'st excel all thy
rivals!' =
Fling by thy chisel now cried
another, 'theu can'st add nothing to
that
4 shall cease, hereafter. my dsvo-
ton to the antique cried third.
The power of Phidias, exclaimed
enc.
The execution of Praxitiles!' said
another.
You will draw yotaries from We
NUS whispered soft Italian girl, as
she turned her melting eyes on the
old man.
The Apollo will hereafter draw
his bow unheeded, cried an artist.
whom many. thought to be the best
of bis day.
Among the crowds who locked to
the studio of Donatello, there was a
youth who had given some promise
of excellence. Many said, that with
intense study, he might one day
make his name heard beyond the
Alps; and some went so far as to
hint that in time he might tread
close on The. heels even Of Donatello
himself, but these were sanguine
men, and great friends Of the young
man; besides, they spoke at random
They called this student Michael An
gelo.
He had stood long time regard.
ing it with fixed eyes and folded
arms. He walked from one position
to another, measured il with his keen
glances, from head to foot, regarded
It before, behind, and studied its pro-
files from various points. The ven-
erable Donatello saw him, and await
ed his long and absorbed examina-
ton with the Aattered pride OF an
artist and the affectionate indul-
gence of a father. At length, Mi
chel Angelo stopped once more be-
fore it, inhaled a long breath, and
broke the profound silence. 1T wants
only one thing muttered the gifted
boy.
Tell me- cried the successful art
ist. .,chat it wants. This is the first
censure which my ST. George has
elected. Can Iimprove7 Can al-
ter? Is itin the clay or the marble!
Tell met
But the critic had disappeared.
Donatello knew the mighty ge-
MUS Of Michael Angelo. He had
beheld the flashes Of the sacred hre,
and watched the Development Of the
God within him ~ s.
4 .Diablo!' cried the old man: Mi
chsel Angelo gone to Rome, and not
a word of advice about my statue'
The scape-grace! but ! shall see b him
apain. Or. by the mass, ] will folloS
him to the Eternal City. His. oPln-
ion is worth that Of all the world'-
But one thingl' He looked at II
apain-he listened to the marmurs
of applause which it drew from q
who behele it--a placid smile settles
an his face. But one thing-wna'
can it be?'
Years rolled By. Michel Angelt
remained at Rome, or made excor
sions to other places, but had not - 4
returned to Florence. Wherever ~
| had been, men regarded him as
comet something fiery, terrible sre
nendous, sublime. His fame sprea'
over the globe; what his chlse
touched it haIloyed. He spurne'
the dull clay: and struck his vast ant
intensely brilliant conceptions a