The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1871-09-14
SENTIMENT AND ACTION
CONCLUDED FORM LAST WERK.1

CONCLUDED FORM LAST wERK.)
Paul looked at her wistfully for a
moment: then, drawing the low stool on
which he sat nearer-for it was his
fancy always to sit at her feet-ard
pressing that unanswering hand ye1
more tenderly, caressing it as a child
with whom caresses cure all ills. Ye1
the angers coldly felt on his, wh,cf
thrqbbed in every nerve He flung
back tho hair from his eyes, and with
= visible: effort looked up joyously as be-
fore.
"O,. Magdalen !" he continued, 81
cannot tell, even to myself, and still less
to you, how much love you how my
! whole life and heart and soul are bound
| up in you, and how my virtue and in.
spiraticn own you also for their source
If you we're taken from me, MagdaIep,
I should die as flowers die when they
are cut from the stalk. I seem to draw
my very being from you and to have
no strength and no joy but that which
you give mo. Are you glad, Magdalen,
that l love you So much?"
eyes, Paul. said Magdsl,n wearily,
Il am very glad"
~ feel, Magdalen, that We shall do
such great things in life together!-
that by your inspiration I shall be, in
art, what no man of my time or gener-
alton has been, and what l could not
have been without you. You are so
beautiful, so glorious! o, what great
and solemn Joy it IS to me that you
have frightened across my path that
l have had the grand task of leading
and directing your mind, and that : I
have brought. you out into tho light
from the mental shadow in which you
formerly lived! What glorious lessons
we shall give the world together ! What
an example we shall offer, for all men to
follow and walk by" r.-
"What are We to do. Paul>?" said
Magdalen, not knowing exactly what
to say ; but seeing that her lover wait
ed for an answer
"Can you ask what are to do? can
you cow, after all that have said, be
doubtful Of our mission Z" cried Paul.
"Why you know, Paul, you are new
er very definite" said Magdalen; who,
having dashed into the middle of the
truth unawares, was Obliged 10 make
the best of it now. She did net know
where she got the courage to speak as
she did but it seemed to her an easier
thing to-day-she did not know Why
to tell Paul that he was an enthusiast
than it had ever been before,
"My Magdalen but I must no,
chide you, love; 1 know that you have
not reached: my place of faith, from
whose heights the world looks so small
and insuperable difficulties seem so easy
What is our mission? Is it not that
am to be the artist the great artist
Of my day y?-embodyiug thought,
which the world is too sceptioal and
material, too irrehgious and God.
forgetting to keep 10 daily view ; giving
back its true religion to my art; giv,ne
back its forgotten glory, and raising i,
from the dust where the iron heels Of
trade and sceptloism bave crushed it
for SO long ?-is it not that am to be
the Raphael, the Michael Angelo Of
England2 And you,-O, what will
you not be in my glorious life You
will be its star, its love, its glory ! When
I am dead it will be written On my
tomb, that this great artist was made
great by love; that Magdalen, his
queeoly wife, had sat by his side as his
inspiration, aud his interpreter of the
divine. Oh, Magdalen Magdalen
do net doubt our mission, nor of the
glorious mannar In which We shall ful-
FL it; for we shall rek enerate the art
world together Apart we should be
nothing; no, Magdalen, without me
your strength would crumble into ashes,
as mine would without you. We. were
made to be the leaders Of our age, the
founders of a new race, aud of higher
generation. We were made to be tfe
restorers Of faith and love to art. Mag
dalen, We shall be all that man and wife
can he together, and OUT lives shall be
a deathless lesson Of good and beauty to
mankind. Is it not so r .f<4.
eyes, Paul, 1 hope," said Magdaleu !;
"but will you please let go my hand"
for, in aer present state Of excitement,
she could cot bear the nervous irrita
tion produced b5 his restless touch. 1t
was as much as she could do to listen
to his dreamy voice and vague visions,
with composure: Those restless burn
lng fingers passing perpetually over her
hand, irritated her beyond her selfcom-
mand.
"Do you not love me, Magdaleo 2"
be said, letting her hand fall mourn.
fully. His eyes filled With tears.
''Yes. l love you very much, aud you
know that do; but it disconcerts ne
70 have my hand held. And then