The Union. [volume] (Georgetown, Del.) 1863-1866, 1863-09-25
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Murillo, the celebrated artist of Seville. Of
ten found, upon the canvass of some one of
his pupils, sketches or specimens of drawing,
imperfect and unfinished, but bearing the
rich impress of genius. They were executed
during the night, and he was utterly unable
to conjecture the author. One morning the
pupils had arrived at the studio before him.
and were grouped before an easel, utterine
exclamations of delighted surprise, when
Murlilo entered. His astonishment was equal
to their own on finding an unfinished head of
the Virgin, of exquisite outline, with MANY
touches of surprising beauty. He appealed
70 one and then to another of the young gen
tlemen, to see if they could lay claim to the
choice but mysterious production but they
returned sorrowful negative.
g He who has left this tracery will one day
be master of us all. Sebastian" said be-a
youthful slave stood trembling before him
who occupies this studio at night?"
" No one, but myself SENIOR"
well, take your station here TONIGHT and
II you do not inform me of the mysterious
visitant of this room, thirty lashes shall be
your reward on the morrow"
he bowed in quiet submission and retired.
That night he threw his mattress before the
easel and slept soundly till the clock struck
three. tie then sprang from his couch and
exclaimed:
Three hours are my own the rest are
my masters" He then seize PALLET, and
TOOK his seat at the frame, to erase the work
OF the preceding night. With brush in hand
to make the oblivious stroke, he passed. "Oh.
those eyes," said he, 4" they pierce me through.
that blood will run from those purple veins
l cannot, cannot erase it; rather let me
finish it 7"
lie went to work and soon the slave-the
darkened brown-the child of toll and sufFer-
ing-are merged into the youthful spirit
rising from the impetus of his own double
energies, into gladstone sphere of liberty and
brightest beauty.
a little eoloring here, and touch there
soft shade here; and thus three hours rolled
unheeded by.
"Oh, those beaming eyes; those lins--tbsv
VIII speak and bless mel My beautiful-oh.
my beautiful"-
A slight noise caused him to look UP. Mu-
rillo, with his pupils, stood around-the SUM-
shine was peering brightly through the case
ment; while yet the unextinguished .taper
burned. Again he was slave. and the
spirits folded wings scarce seemed to flutter.
his eyes fell beneath their eager gaze.
Who is your master, Sebastian ?''
You, senor,"
Your drawing-master, mean %
You, senor." H
nave never given you lessons"
NO; but you gave them to these young
gentlemen, and heard them"
Yes, you have done better-vou have
pronted by them. Does this boy deserve
punishment OF reward, my dear pupils ?"
Reward, senor-reward," was the quick
response.
What shall it be2"
One suggested suit of elothes-another a
sum OF money; but no chord was touched in
the captiEe's bosom Another said:
The master feels kindly to-day-ask your
freedom, Sebastian"
lie sank on his knees, and groan of an.
guish burst from him. He lifted his burning
eyes to his masters face: "The freedom Of
my father p t1
The death-chill has passed from his heart
and he breathed. Murillo folded him to his
bosom. -.
Your pencil shows that you have talent
your request that you have heart; you ar,
no longer slave, but my SON. Hoppy Mu
riilol / have not painted, but made 6
painter u