The Panola star. ([Panola] Panola County, Miss.) 1856-1857, 1856-07-30
The next day he procured a canvass

nothing so worthy to paint, SO full of in
spiration, as your own sweet face. You
be my model, and the world shall learn to
admire your beauty, while it acknowledges
my genius."
"Do not ask me to sit, Ethan, | con-
jure you," said the young wife, with a
shudder. 81 have always had supersti-
tious dread of being painted. have al
ways had fancy that my life would ebb
away with each stroke of the pencil.'
Glow abs1rdr' said the painter, with
a laugh. "These scruplcs are not beft-
ting an artists wife. Believe me, our
very existence depends on this experiment.
Esther made no more seruplcs, and the
work commenced. A rapid, mastery
drawing was an auspicious beginning
Then came the plastic moulding of the
features, as yet nearly colcrless, but per-
meatcd with slight glow, as the blood
pcrineates the living form. Vane looked
little at his model, after catching the form
of the features. Indeed what need had
he of Esther sitting there? lie wore her
image in his heart of hearts. lie had but
to look inward and behold her. So he
wrought on. Now indeed he knew what
it was to be painter. Never before had
he felt true inspiration. Heretofore he
had dimly copi6d-now he brightlyorcated.
1t was his Esther that rose from his car
essing fingers; but how spiritualized-
how radiant-how glorious in her high
beauty.
"You are not looking at mcp' sighed
the wife.
81 en- looking at you, dearest" am
swered the painter, fixing his gaze on the
canvass. You are mirrered here, as in
my heart. Look yourself. Is it not my
life, my Esther, that smiles back on you?"
Esther gazcd, and as she gazed she
sighed. There was more than mortal
beauty in the picture, and she wondered
not that Ethan could not withdraw his
eyes from it for a moment.
Days wore on, and the painter was still
enamored Of his task. lie now no longer
needed his model Sac stole quietly into
the room at timcS-but always mbidden,
and then to bring him that refreShmcnt,
without which he would have tainted at
the severity Of his toih 1t last his work
was completed. The reflected sunlight
was fading away from the east as he
drew aside his window curtain, ard gazcd
upon his cOnsuiamatc work.
SIT is done," said lie, with an almost
naughty exclamation. "Thcy will now
no longer deny me aplace among the great
ones of the earth. can say to the spirits
of Angelo, and Raphael, and Paolo-I too
am brother.
A slight noise at lis side reused him
from his rcverie. Esther had entered un-
perceived, and had sunk, fainting, at his
feet, like lilly bowed down by a rain
storm. lie bore her to the window, and
he sprakled her face with water.
She slowly opened her eyes.
"NIy Esther" said the painter. "What
is this what has caused this illness ?"
"The PICTURE" she murmured family.
F'Cherish it Ter my sake. 1t will soon be
all you have to remind you Of me. AS
the work went On, felt my life passing
away from me to that canvass. As its
colors warmed beneath your touch, so my
heart grew cold. 1t is fnished-and so
is my life. But no matter-it was neces-
sary to your glory"
Her words were prophetic. She did
not long survive the completion Of the
picture.
Vane stood beside her coffin, and gazed
in agony upon the &c last of earth"
''Fatal artp' he murmured. The
gray old mether-the fair young bride
both gone-and for what That | might
be painter. Is it net written, that he
who demands success must be welded to
his art alone2 What have | to do with
domestic ties? l have poured my life
blood into the crucible, and if fame be not
the result, shall know how to rejoin the
lost on earth."