The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1866-12-13

"go and fulfil your destiny: Gods vii
be done! You will become agreat MAI
YOU will become tho companion d
princes ind kings, and your name vii
extend the fame Of your country to th<
uttermost parts of tho earth. I see il
all 8 and9let my selfish love perish
Only promise this y; when you are here
after in the full blaze Of your triumph
sometimes turn aside from the high.
born, lovely danes who are throngine
around, and drop one tear to the mem.
ory Of the lowly Danish girl who loved
you better than herself: Bertel, fare.
we'll p -
The next day Thorvaldsen Quilted
Copenhagen for Rome. where he resi-.
ded nearly the whole remainder of hi,
long life. and more than realized bis
own wild aspirations for fame But the
prophesy Of poor Amalie was literally
ful6lled-he never more beheld his pa.
rents, nor her, his 6rst true love! =;
Nearly half a century had elapsed,
and again the scene was Copenhagen:
The streets were densely crowded with
eager, sorrowing spectators, and every
window Of every house was filed with
sadly-expectant faces. At length : cry,
"They come p was echoed from group
to group, and the crowds swayed to and
fro under the sympathetic swell Of com.
mon emotion. :'
A withered old woman was seated at
the upper window of a house, and when
the cry was taken up, she raised her
wrinkled countenance, and passed her
hands over her eyes, as if to clear away
the mist Of more than seventy winters
An 1mnehseE procession drew nigh -
Appropriate military music preceded
the corpse being, conveyed to its last
earthly abiding place The king IF
the land, the royal family, the nobility,
Ri; b ;elerg1; The learned, the brave, the
gifted, the renowned, walked after it.
The banners Of mourning were waved,
the trumpets walled, and ten thousand
sobs broke alike from stern and gentle
breasts, and tears from the eyes Of war
riors as we'll as lovely women showerd
like rain. It was the funeral of Bcrte'
Thorvaldsen, with the Danish nation
for mourners! And she, the old wo-
man who gazed at it as, slowly wound
by-she was Amalie, his first love |!
Tborvaldseu had never married, Meth.
er had she. :,
"Ah, Himlen !" murmured the old
woman, wiping away tears from source
which fo1 many long years had been
dry, chow marvellous is the will of
God !! To think that I should live to
behold this sight! Poor, poor Bertel!
All that l predicted came to pass; but
ahi me !r~ho knows whether you might
not J! have enjoyed happier. life after
all had you stayed with your old father
and mother, and married me. All,
Hinlcn, there's only one can tell !! Poor
Bcrtel!" !" -
.'Four years more sped, and one Zoe
Sabbath morning an.aged aud decrepit
female painfully dragged her weary
limbs through the crcwded rooms Of
that wonderous building known Is Thor.
Museum. She paused not to
glance at. the. matchiess works Of the
Sculptor, but crept 70 an open doorway
leading into the inner quadrangle, id
the centre Of which low tomb of gray
marble encloses the mortal re,uains of
him whose hand created the works
which gil the edifice. Step by step she
drew close to the tomb, and sank on the
pavement by its side. Then she laid
down her crutch. and pressed her bony
hands tightly over her skinny brow
"J+,ja!'' murmured she; "they told
me he lay here, and I prayed to God to
grant me strength to crawl . the spot
and He has heard me. I. TAh, Himlen
! can die happy now!' !.>:t .4"..; :, -. =
#; She withdrew her hands, and peered
at the simple but all:comprehensiv in
scriptlon of "Bertel: Thorvaldsen, y.
deepiyscut on theasldec Of the tomb. -
Then ;she raised her fore6nger,,, and ear
nestly traced with; it every letter to tho:
eddd.' Smiling feebly,, she let fall her
band, and complecently smiled, while
"a evaneseene gleam Of subtle emotion
lighted up her lineaments.t 7'..Tis true :;
de- e. n,orlders here: Po,o,r,, B1ertel,;: We
.R.lloneet ,g.in-in heaven r Fl: T. 7: -.
10 rs s., :s,1l2', 1z!4 e ..05E q 4 y!at, 1;vs!,
] Her Her eyes Z. closed go and her head =. slowly
sank on; her breast, in which attitude
she remained until one Of tho officers Of
the museum, Who had noticed herssn
galar behavior, came 60 up. " .'Ganmel
koues 81 old vile said & he, e what .re
you dong ~ S.'' :'i .;,,.5: s, ;5 ;;.. e.:
!, t she sssbeer answered Vi not aud he slightly
touched: her" shoulder, th,nkinng. she
wa was asleep. ''llsr; body gently Slid to
The ground. at the ton ch, and he then
saw that she slept the sleep Of death !
"A correspondent asks for infor'
~.ation as to the comparative extendi.
ture tor the civil service Of, tho Gov.
ern ments Of the United States y and