Daily union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1865-1866, 1865-12-23
n SAD STORY.
R"'nn"cG and Reality OF. Literary Tire
In Paris.

tnouSht tley might play with intellectua
glits-hld inspiration descend at the crool
of their iinger-and lure fame as easily n
the talconer does his taSSel? The child q
genius persuades himself that if he had In
money, he could soar 10 the nostcr's rrid
of Hight. lie meets a woman who wouI,
gladly share her dowry TO be horne on sl,cI
plaions. They marry Wrinkles como
Gray hair appears lie is a cITf of ceniu
all the days Of his life. Genius will no
wear fetters. Besides, children of gepiuS to,
often shut their eyes to the great truth thai
experience of life is absolutely necessary I,
| give maturity to genius. One might rs vel
expect to use h. m before il has been rotfcd
rs to see the lottiest talents bloom int
! genus until they have gone through that
fermentation ofliie called experience. Tear,
must be shed, blood must be SMILED tho
cheek must burn with blushes. the heart mn
| he wrungthe brain fevered the soul dcprcssA
| TO the gates of deIth-and ali this time and
! again before genius blooms. As then;rhtir-
| gale sings sweetest after its evs have been
| torn ont, as the aromatic herbs have no or
der until they have been bruised, so genius
must be bowed down to earth before il can
dream of scaling heaven. Therefore Is II
that wealth hath stifed more gcnius than
poverty; therefore is il that the road TO i'm
mortality does not lie through an hciress's
bridal chamber, but rather through the
cherries garret, bereavcd of fire. whose
wardrobe IA row Of nails behind the door,
hath nothing but rags. 4 hundred demons,
armed with weapons more formidable than
smithy ever forged, To wit the world ieers.
the worlds contempt, the worlds scorn. The
f1, Il
stand at every avenue leading to the world.
and drive one back time and again. until
out of sheer despair he shrinks into himself
and explores his every fold, his every recess.
his every plat and crease. Then, knowing.
himself, he knoweth all things. Heaven
and earth have no secrets hidden from him
To expect this imitation from wealth's part
ner would be rs idle as to ask the poliap
harp, packed in bran, to rival the instru-
ment exposed in the window to the current
of winters air. Forgive me this long pre-
face, but the story proceed to tell YOU
threw me into so many and bitter reflections.
| have hitherto been unable to recover nv
selfcommand.
Happening to beat Saint NJ. a small
town in the South of France. | visited the
lunatic asylum. | have ALWAYS been fond Of
lunaticS. ! have never met among them 4
stupid or a bad man. was shown into
tidy cell, occupied by little old man, bent
over desk, and writing with his finger on
the board with inexpreSsible rapiditv. He
rose timidly, twirling his fingers. He was
at least sixty years old. but occasionally did
not seem to be above fifteen His white. al
most blonde, hair fell in childlike curls. and
his sweet face, smiling and uneasy, wore the
the expression of infants when they both
weep and laugh at the same time Never
theless, one could detect profound grief.
trembling agony, in his dilated eyes, which
wore the fixed expression of madness and
despair. My attendant made Il gesture and
the poor old man resumed his seat with ex-
travagant delight and began to write As fast
as ever he could. Then, seated in a corner
of the cell in front of this infantce old man,
my attendant told me the unhappy Great
ure's history. Some forty or more wears
ago, there lived in small town named st.
R young orphan. She was intellectu-
al, wealthy, and beautiful. Every unmarried
man of the province was at her feet, his
ewes fixed on her fortune She was SO fiat
tered so admired, so Complimented, her
gorge would rise at night when upon going
upon her during the dav At last such was
the nausea she experienced, she resolved TO
give her hand and all it contained to a
promising young man. who would give
her in affection and reputation a substantial
exchange for the beauty and estate she
gave him. There was at that time in her
town prodigy of eighteen, who had rhymed
from his iniancy-had lisped in numbers"
He had already written many fable, trage-
dy, sonnet, and epic, and the whole province
had for firm belief that he would bloom into
a great genius. She married this prodigy
that no material obstruction might delay his
progress on the road to fame. She brought
him up to Paris, and so planted him in
wealth's hot-house to force him TO bear fruit
Strange and inexplicable fatality! mhcard
of catastrophe! The poet bore no fruit. lie
had charming study; it was nothing but
bronze and black rtarble. He lived in most
favorable quiet. He knew nothing of the
thorns of life And after all he rhymed a.
he rhymed when he was jftcen-merc dog
gerel, fit at best for n cOnfcctiOner's kisses.
lie was the best little husband that ever was
seen, gentle and timid, amablc and labo-
Tious. She was the best little wife that ever
was seen, Conciliating and encouraging, c1-
tremely tolerant, and Of an invariable good
humor Nevertheless, by degrees, she be-
came nervous and irritable. He became
of himself Every morning he
would lock himself up in his study, write
madly, blot quirc after quire of paper read
it over, and in despair confessed twas not
worth the ink twas written in. Every eve
ming she would come, her heart throbbing
with anxiety, to see if some good lines had
at last made their appearance. She would
question the poet, who every day hung his
head still lower. At last impotence and
disdan appeared; she could not long check
their outbreak; and she upbraided her hus-
band for defrauding her, because in return
for her beauty and her money, he had not
given her genius.
"Aftcr this scene matters went from bad TO
worse The husband became a child scoldcd
by the wife. He lived in state Of con-
slant uneasiness, eternal shame. lie lived
blushing and trembling; hi heart was wrung
by all the tortnres Of the impotent artist and
the insolvent man. He suffered the tOrments
Of the damned by the side Of the woman he
had robbed $50 she said and whose only
sentiment for him now was disdainful pity.
So long n that woman had not abandoned
III nope ui httlHH HtT uu-bdilN biODm lutu
a genius she chained him to his writing
desk, and made him write a given number
Of lines every day before dinner The un-
happy man addressed himself TO the task,
and daily wrote worse. Twas an hourly
battle between them Of contempt and pain.
She laughed disdainiuly. lie shivcred with
fear and anguish.
ale had spent $500 Of her money in
tO become q great poet This
was his CALLED withcrs. One morning he re-
fused TO do his daily task set him every
morning by his wife. lie bad found ia the
Office Of some joint stock company copying
clerks place with a salary Of $3.50, and bCnce-
forward he began 10 pay his debt % his wife
He lived under the same roof with her but
he paid rent for biz room; he took his soli-
tary eAls in restaurants whose price was
fourteen sous; he dressed himself with hisown
money, and nevertheless managed 10 paw his
wife considerable amount Of money annual
in npaymentof his debt to her. lie lived in this
way above Thirty years, silent and uneasy.
every eye, and blushing suddenly
when no one was looking. His sole pleasure
was to consult little blank book wherein
he recorded the money be had paid % his /
wife in extinguishment Of his debt His /
vife, seized by pity, by love perhaps for this |
great baby, 40 pure and 40 young, despite /
his years, tried to refuse kI money and win 1
back TO herself the poor heSrt she had shat /
iered 70 pieces Her weal;, WILKES hus- /
band refused with energy We would listen /
10 nothing. Work he would 10 paw of his !
gife He copied letter- He made out \