The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1866-01-25

things. Heaven and earth have no
secrets hidden from him. To expect
this initiation from wealth's partner
would be as idle as TO ask the eolian
harp, packed in bran, to rival the in
strument exposed in the window to the
current Of winters air. Forgive me
this long preface, but the story | pro-
ceed 10 tell you threw me into so many
and bitter reflections, have hitherto
been unable to recover my self COM
mand.
"Happening to be at Saint NJ, a
small town in the south of France, | Wis
tied the lunatic-asylum. ] have always
been fond of luuatics. | have never
met among them stupid and bad
man. / was shown into tidy cell, oc-
cupied by a little old man, bent over a
desk, and writing with his finger on the
board with inexpressible rapidity. He
rose timidly, twirling his fingers. He
was at least sixty years old, but occa-
sionaIly did not seem to be above fifteen.
His white, almost blonde, hair fell in
chidlike curls, and hissweet face, smil-
ing and uneasy, wore the expression Of
infants when they both weep and laugh
at the same time. Nevertheless, ono
could detect profound grief, trembling
agony, in bis dilated eyes, which wore
the fixed expression Of madness aud
despair. My attendant made gesture,
and the poor old man resumed his seat
with cxtravagant delight. aud began 10
write as fast as ever he could Then.
seated in a corner Of the cell in front of
this inlantinc old man, my attendant told
me the unhappy creatures history -
Some forty or moro years ago, there
lived in n small town named St r.
a young orphan She was intellectual,
wealthy, beautiful Every unmarried
man Of the province was at her feet, his
eyes fixed on her fortune. SHE was 50
fiattered, so adulated, 50 eomplimensed,
her gorge would rise at night when up.
on going to bed che would think Of the
sugar forced upon her during the day
AT last such was the nausea she expo.
rienced, she resolved TO give her hand
and all il contained TO promising
young man" who wonld give her in af.
fection and reputation a substantial cx-
change for the beauty and estate she
gave him. There was at that time in
her town prodigy of eighteen. who had
rhymcd from his infancy-had 'lispcd
in numbers" lie had already written
many fable, tragedy, sonnet, and epic
and the whole province had firm belief
that he would bloom into a great genius
She married this prodigy that no mate.
rial obstacle might delay his progress
on the road To fame. She brought him
up to Paris and so planted him in
wealth's hothousc to force him TO bear
fruit Strange and ncxplicablc fatal.
ty unheard of catastrophe The poet
bore no fruit. lie had acharming study !:
it was nothing but bronze aud black
marble He lived in most favorable
quiet. lie knew nothing Of the thorns
oflile. And after all. he rhymcd a.
when he was fifteen, mere doggrel. fl at
best for conicctioncr's kisses. lie
was the best little husband that ever
was seen, gentle and timid, amiablo aud
laborious. She was the bert little wife
that ever was seen, conciliating and en-
couraging, extremely tolerant, and Of
an nyariable good-humor. Neyerthe-
less. by degrees, she became nervous aud
irritable. He became ashamed of him
self Every morning he would lock
himself up in his study, write madly,
blot quire after quire Of paper, read it
over, and in despair confessed twas not
worth the ink twas written in. Every
evening she would come, her heart
throbbing with anxiety, to see if some
good lines had Mt last made their APP.
pearance. She would question the poet
who every day hung his head still lower.
At last timpatience and disdain appeared;
she could not long check their out
break and she upbraided her husband
for defrauding her, because in return
for her beauty and her money he had
not given her genius.
After this scene matters went from
bad to worse The husband became n
child scolded by the wife He lived in
state of constant uneasiness, eternal
shame. lie lived blushing and trem-
bling; his heart was wrung by all the
tortures of the impOtent artist and the
insolvent man. lie suffered the tor
ments of the damned by the side of the
woman he had robbed $50 he said) and
whose only sentiment for him nov was
disdainfnl pity. So long as that woman
had not abandoned all hope of seeing