, 1873-12-07
A DREAM-PiCTURE.

am an old man. The suowH and sunshine Of
aovonty ycars have passed. oyor mo, with all their
varying Interplay Of light and shadow. Tho
sunshine Of tho past IL vanished. but tho Buowa
rcluain, and their weight is heavy OIL thy head.
nco tho world-the dreaty world. TINT Inns boon
10 bright aud 30 dark 10 mo-with misty and
feoblo oyos, as though I looked through veil
Of fa,llng tears. My footstop is not Htoady. and
movo ia ono In dim, uncertain droam. Tho
gontle summer air, ovon as writo. coinos Hoftly
in ut my window, touching my faco as tenderly
AZ IN ollor days hut It docs not bring tho fairy
visions that 1t used, whom 1t waftod my spirit
into droamland.
It has boon writton Of the agod TINT they 1.-Two
only in rotrospcctlon; that with thom tho pros
ont tahea all its ooloring from tho past. do
not know II this be always truo; but know
that 1t is strangely true Of my own life. 1.-Two
again, oach day, tho dear 1ifo whose only 1oGacy
waB b1cssod, blcssol memory. What Wonder
IL writo 1t down? What wonder II sfaro 1t
with, the world? Tho young III yoars may par
don tho garrulity Of age; tho aged nlny lnd in
1t something akin to thoir onu experience.
How shall picture It? I have no fairy pom
ell; hayo no "sapphire pcn," no "ralnbow
dow" shrink flon nakng tangible, to nliou
oyos, tho impulpabilisics which crowd my NOM
ory, knowing how COARSE must bo tho outline,
how frosa tho detail. how inadequate tic vholo.
But no human work 10 porfoct; and tho tonlor-
est man touches Of The artist are often gross
bosilo lliB minds ideal.
As 7 closo my Dyes, 1 500 picture TINT is holy:
yteiost rs sacrcd 10 mo as tho TRANSPORTATION
to tho 1nveG disciple OF Christ. It aecns too
distinct for fuHoy, too glorious for reality, too
beautiful to last; md yot 1t is always With nc.
| whom I closo my oyea upon outward things. It
is picture painted by the baud Of God for mo
alone. No human eye, savo mtno, has over
! loosed upon it. It is n picture Of tho air. yot
| ilcathleBs as The universe. It wns years ago-a
hundred years It seenaa to mo NOW glancing back
! when lrst I closed my eyes and snw this
Dreans-picture yet 1t Is brighter to me now than
| then-f perfect things call ovor gain iii loYoli-
! noss.
AIino is no stold picture of tho dull canvas Il
is pn;.,totl OIL a ground Of darkness, In dazzlinS
| light, and lines OF stainless purity. It moves
and breathcs, aud smiles Is only angels smilo.
1t bends over mo. III robes too pure for earth,
aud l;issea my check with 1ong-remembered
tenderness. It points tangcr upward, aud calls
itself my child Icatislel.
Oh. Evu. my child my child! God eavo you.
as pricoloas treasure, into MY caro-. cherished
| YOU did ill d fathers duly 70 his child; I
loyol YOU with foryor beyond oil lovoa OF
earth NJ IIo knows who kuoweth Nil. And, whom
lIe chose to recall His Eist, 1lo gave in mercy
what have named u Dsoam-picturo, to mako
tho loso}a:e years loss }cao]ato. It is we'll Ao
did not takc sou wholly. else Ind tlefcd aud
cursed Him, s1,d closed my heart to oil Of good
nnd beautiful on earth. Az 1t Is, believe my
lilo I,as not boon ontiroly selfish, nor destitute
! Of good.
Lot me recall the past, as liavc 30 often dono
before. Lo: mo evoke, onco moro, IL phantom
scanes wloso rcal oxistsnco persshed long ago
a,". as tho eser-c!'a"g'',g panorama sweeps
pagys, however tiuly they may DO ahaaowod
forth, however imperfect tho copy.
| Tho Hpell is on I lnoel bos1lu graye-alas,
! nlasl the grave IL mated, now-anl look to
i heaven through streaming tears. and pray.
fore me, aud Gtyo her Bpirlt room in heaven. I
prny that Ilngive mo strength tn Euida my moth
oreas Child through the devious Ways OF her
coming life: I,pray TIL tho aolamu moon creepa
t Whisper Ponce"
The scene clangos; Il Tranquil! summer
afternoon, and I nm sitting in my Studio. whose
walls arc covered With tho creations Of my fancy
tho incarnations Of my spirits secret droama !:
for 1ne:l aro pleased to say layo the g'ft OF
Michael Augelo. I am sitting here. in u hull
dream, watching tho white clouds floating
idolcntly ncgous their dark background Of ull-
n,any hours. opllyioua to what IL passing around
mo, passive it mind md body, until some power,
wl.osa nature 1 know. uot, brings to mo tho
ideal dreams whose embodiment they who look
hear tic fall Of little feet along the passage.
The Bound nwakells MO from NY reyesio and
then tho latch IL gently drawn, and little girl
comes softly into tho room: She rnns to ms
quickly, aud throws her baby arms about my
neck, mud kisses mo and calls hor dear old
| papa, until ,ny eyes nre full Of tears, aud my
heart too big for It's prison. tear falls Gu her
arm. she glances quickly up, and wonders, with
burieu hcr face In my bosom and beguu. to sob.
Mr. oycs are Hooded now -; drop follows drop, and
falls upou hor lustroua hair. Presently she
raisoH hcr dewy, over-oarnest eyes to mlne aud
asks, with face Of childish innocence:
"papn, will you palat inc al angel p
"What Btrange raqlost, my cltll! Why do
you wish me to paint yon an nnsel2"
"bseaans hope' some time, to bo an ansel'
lily cli!d's face, AZ ahc apealis, becomes traos-
figured-saiutiike. I turtl away my head. for
hox earnest eeyoa are palnful to my slyht.
"Papa, vii you paHnt PAIR tn mo- 9o ~ ~. ange'w
NY ci,ild goes out. ut awhile, nloSaloAa ho-
cause spell Is on me. An inspiration aeiaoa
mo. place my easel and my canvas, and pro
pnro my oulora III 4 kind of dream. paint MY
Iabuyoi conlparisonss, NO caroful analysis. Every
stroke of my brush ~ the work of some mysto-
1iouB, nnRrriue intuition.
Tho painting ii completed. NY friends drop
in to Wow it. I lnvo nlulod it ":rlo Child
Angel" rhey praise my work, asl sny no tt:s!
ovor mado d loyoler potnro.. Vllcy alullro tue
conception, tho pcrspcotivo. tlo form, tho pose,
tho oxprosson, tho culoring. They toll
mo l,ayo reproduced, in absolute perfeetlo,,
tho face Of MY little Eya. 1 llear il all, but
know no attiat save God can ever picture hes
as Bllo iH; no human ponoil ovUr catch tho naulo.
less cllrm Of her diyincly-ainaplo ohilalHh
beauty.
LILY :'Chill- Angel" continues to win admiration
aud becomes popular. Peoplo como fur to Wow
it, aud a5n offered prncely nusns to part with
it. To al ouch otrers I make roply: "TLt
picture il my oulls sho will do with 1t as Blc
pleases." But Eva would not payt with |: las
myriadH Of gold mounta!ns and o.ory woalth,
purchaser goes diHappointod away.
Tho days ure passing swiftly by mo, now, md
oaoh isAushod aud uyoa with -tiuts. And whal
wonder for they aro tilled with Joy, and hopo,
aud pyoniso work, aud dream, md pray and
thoy call me great Tho lenal,tl for my pic.
turcn Ia far in oxceua OF the supply, tax nyNel!
al may. It seems as II men pour their wealtl
| M ,nv oot raois1oaa ,ro1un1fkv pbay land