The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1874-08-02

"Perhaps it is a real crime, but too subtle to
be understood by them, that descends to their
level, and pursues them under the appearance
of an external and sensible crime, the only
one which they can understand. There are
whimsical scruples which resemble madness,
exaggeraton resembles falsehood. Who
knows if these scruples are not the wander
ings or, if you prefer it, the transpositions of
remorsei l say remorse. do not say repent
ance, for repentance enlightens, and remorse
blinds. Between repentance and remorse there
is an abyss; the first gives peace, the second
destroys it, Perhaps conscience, not being
able to make itself felt by the guilty person on
it's own ground, speaks to him, by way of re-
venge in language as coarse as himself on his
own domain. Through a terrible justice, it
makes him reproach himself with what ap-
pears unjust the surface, but which is a
thousand times just at the bottom. Conscience,
which spoke in vain at the moment of the
crime, now arms itself against the criminal as
phantom. We are men here tonight, as we
appear to each other; but who knows, if we
ment, phantoms -
The doctor rose, and, taking the artists
hand, said. " 1 do not know how much truth
there may be in your theory. I only know one
thing that you are man of genius, and if I
had doubted it before, am now convinced of
it. will reflect on your words-they open to
me new horizon"
'Ihave always been pursued by the thought"
said the artist, " that there is moment whom
man understands for the first time what he
has seen since his infancy. 1t is the day when
the eyes of the mind open. 1t is this have
attempted to show in my picture-"The First
Glance" But as the horizon is constantly en-
larging, endeavor to throw upon every thing
each time look which may call The First
Glance" In the other composition, Cain,
after his Crime," I wished to show in Cain,
not the melodramatic assassin, but vulgar,
common man. The stigmata of anger, of which
he received the visible mark, opens to him the
eyes of the soul. He throws upon his crime a
first glance. There are spiritual Gains whose
| arms are innocent. Perhaps there may be some
among the insane, of whom we have spoken ;
and in that case there is more truth in their
madness than in their previous sanity. Their
insanity only deceives them about the nature
of the crime; their sanity deceived them
about the crime itself
The doctor thoughtful. He cook the
artist aside, and in low tone said: "Shall
we leave together 7" And they left.
After their departure the conversation turn
ed on what had just been said.
"Were you always a materialist 7" asked one
person of his neighbor.
1T is scarcely fair or generous to choose this
moment for such a question," was the reply.
GAS for me-" said a young lady, II don't like
to hear NJ. Bayard talk. He is a great artist
a. T LII 49,
style, he worries me-"
Would it be indscreet, madame, to ask
you whyi tiinidly inquired young man with
a badly-tied cravat.
because 1 am afraid he is right in his opin-
ions. wish to pass galy through life; and if
we believe what he says, life would be such a
serious affair, we should have to think. Real
ly, to hear him, we can imagine ourselves snr-
rounded with mysteries"
II wish to see and study your picture of
Cain. l was going TO say your portrait of
Cain" said the doctor to the painter ''for it
seems to that you must have known him
personally, from the manner in which you
have spoken to me of him."
perhaps have known him." said Paul
at any rate, come y, And they entered the
| studio.
Arrived before the picture, the doctor started
back in surprise.
The portrait of Cain was that of the baron
horrible in the resemblance.
There was on that face the GOODNESS of the
criminal and the horror of the cursed. The
GOODNESS did not impair the horror, nor the
horror the GOODNESS; and from the mouth OF
Cain the spectator might expect to hear the
words that st. Bridget heard from the mouth
of Satan when he said to God:
40 Judge am GOODNESS itself"
Indifference and despair were in those eyes
on those lips, and on that brow. But the de-
spair was not heartrending, for repentance
was wanting, and this despair even appeared
expiatory, like justice eating its bread.
The doctor remained long while motionless.
The horizon opened before his eye. His science
sought new depths. He did not precisely re
fect' but he remembered, and, perhaps for the
first time in his life, passed an hour in pro