The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1873-01-24
THE BEAUTIFUL.

A student of Raphael stood before his
outstretched canvas in his studio, as if
in deep contemplation for a subject for
his pencil. Entranced with visions that
fitted before his fancy, he exclaimed
''TII paint the Beautiful What shall
it be? I'll paint the noontide with its
splendors - Again he mused: "ru
paint the ocean in its anger" Hesitat-
ing to begin his task-''O Or I'll paint
the rosy morning with its golden tresses,
or the modest evening with its coronet
of stars. Here the artist seemed to
dream. els aught more beautiful :?
All, I'll paint a fair Mandonna, or the
sweet, innocent child, Jesus - Again
he murmured for theme sublimer,
grander Ill depict the battle, or the
storm; but stay-could I possibly pic
ture the mind, with its aspirations yet
clinging to the casket in which it is en-
shrined?" He knew the theme, on
earth most wondrously beautiful, was
beyond the limner's skill. He paused
in disappointed mood. A poetess, un-
perceived, had entered, whose spirit
was stirred with sympathy. She touch
ed her Tyre, and sang
''What is the Beautiful? A mystery.
Not man, but God alone its depth can sound;
wouldst thou among its worshippers be found?
Rise on the wings Of Faith where thought is
free,
And thou shalt know the Beautiful"
The artist, still fondly clinging to his
idea of the Beautiful, responded
-" Could you but see the famous picture
of the four Marys weeping over the
dead body of the crucitied Redeemer,
you would acknowledge a realization of
the Beautiful. The human countenance
is, to my mind the special enthronement
and pavilion of intelIigence-the parade
ground of thought-the papyrus where
on the soul writes out her mystic lore
the pillar on which she hangeth up
her writing for the world to read. Mys-
terious blending of matter and mind
A sea of mystery There is something
regal in the face of man but there was
| never such a face as that of the Man ot
| sOrrows, whose countenance Is as the
| shining of the sun in his strength.
! There never was such a dead counte,
nance, for there was not one line of de
cay in it. In every other face, evi
tempers and rebeIlious desires have
even after death, left memorials of theil
power but in the countenance of ou
Lord Jesus there was no sign or trace
of personal sin; and every exquisite
touch of the fair hand is beautifully
conceived, and executed by the hand o
the painter. Successfully has he da
guerreotyped God p
A naturalist, who had listened witt
interest, announced himself: Ever
thing God has created bears the impress
of some deep hidden good. Nature i
replete with beauty, far surprising art
The earth is landscape of beauty
whether our eyes turn toward the ic.
North, or the sunny South, visions o
picturesque beauty arise to view. Th
green carpet, the towering mountain
the CLASSY waters of cataract, sea. an,
ocean, each reflect varied images o
light, and claim our admiration. In tn
sweet notes of birds, the rumblini
noise of the waterfall, the murmur o
the sea-shell, or the signing of tin
breeze, thsre's melody, pOesy, divinity
The ocean, the earth, and the heaven
/ are components of the handiwork of tn