The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1889-1889, 1889-05-24
AN ARTISTS VISION.


face had cost me, and yet ! seemed as
far from It's discovery us ever, while
the picture on which my hopes Of fame
were built, and III which so many beau-
tiful thoughts and dreams were en-
shrined, stood unfinished on my easel.
| slrove again and again to paint the /
face / had seen in nv visions but alas
the moment ] seized my brushes and
palette, | found myself painting an or
dinary woman's beauty instead Of that
soulful and mystical loveincss grown
perfect and precious through centuries
of spiritual communion with the deni
zens Of the dim land of dreams.
AT last, one night, after painting all
day In vain threw myself down on
tiger skin IN front Of the picture utterly
wcaried out and fell asleep, though to
this day am not sure If what seemed
merely sleep to the material part of me
was not really spiritual experience
sent by those unseen helpers, who are
ever near us, TO prepare and strengthen
us for the future pain,
saw mountainous coast, with deep
purple hills melting into tender lilacs
and faint blues as they met the sky, al
ready breaking into the golden radiance
of dawn.
Gradually, rs gazed, tie fairness Of
the golden dawn changed into a lurid
coppery hue, and, save the bells, not
sound was heard, while felt n grow
ing horror and terror in that heavy stag
nont air
strove to fly, and In the darkness,
which was growing slowly, suffuscd
with weird uncarthly light, rs If the
pitful stars had faltcred back into the
morning sky 10 comfort the wailing
people, ] stumbled over something in
my path, and, peering down, saw 1t was
an open coffin, wherein lay veied
woman. Half unconsciously, | stretched
out my hand to raise the veil, and saw
the haunting face ] had sought every
where in vain for my picture.
sprang up with cry of terror, and
awoke in my darkened studio But
really lay before me In her coffin, and
still very family / fancied could hear
the clashing of those weird bells in the
distance.
/ lighted my lamp and worked on
and on, with that strange feeling Of
possession one has sometimcs-as If
some mighty power outside us were
guiding our hands and inspiring our
thoughts.
Gradually the dawn, faint and pale
and ghostly, rs II comes to lis in Lon
don, stole into my room / extinguished
my lamp, but still worked on, and at
last there lay the lovely face, clear and
distinct
My picture. "Thc Vision" was duly
sent to the Royal Academy and ac-
cepted; not only accepted, indeed, but
actually hung in the place of honor in
| one of the best rooms, and | was over.
| whelmed with the generous congratula-
| tions Of my brother artists, mingled
with inquiries about the model who sat
for my princess. could see very few
of them believed my story, that / had
painted from no living model, but only
from dream face, and my closest
friend, Reginald Doone, expressed the
general feeling, when he said;
"Ah, well, old man, you want to keep
her to Yourself. ] don't blame you, for
there Is not such another face In Eng.
land. BY Jove !" he broke off under
his breath, with mischievous look ut
me, "look there; is that dream, too q
| ANU iOiiOMIhS HID SltitG, L ouW, w
my amazement and deligh, the original
of my picture. lnvoluntarily glanced
at it. Yes; every line, every curve of
the sweet face was reproduced with alb
solute fidelity, and / stood as If turned
10 stone rs she paused before the pic
ture,. land an old gentleman who was
with her said, In tone of surprises;
why, Ina, that is your portraitW
A faint flush rose in the lovely, pale
face as She murmured:
"Oh, no, papa; I am not beautiful
like that"
II must have that picture" he added
| as, after another long look, they passed
on, t
| | had placed q price of 1000 guinea,
on my picture, wishing to keep 1t fol
myself, and thinking no one would bt
likely to give that sum for the work ol
comparatively unknown artist. How
ever, | found shortly afterward that il
was sold to a well-known dealer.
/ followed my vision at distanc,
through the gallery, asking every one
knew who she was, but no one cOulC
tell me anything about her; and at last
when they left, was fain to follow
still, thinking from their carriage I.
might be able to discover some clew
However, to my surprise, they Wake,
some little distance and then got into
hanson. ! jumped into another ant
ordered the driver TO follow theirs ant
stop where 1t stopped Much to IN,
disgust, Paddington station seemed
their destination, and when, after pay
ing my man, ! hurried into the station
. | s,.at Ina IN gna
. pear into a first-class carriage as tn
: train steamed off ! l.....
had lost her for that time, but
comfortcd myself with the idea that W
must meet during the season, and dc
! termined at once to look up all my OLE
friends, and accept all the Invitations !
got, for until now, wrapped up in IN.
art, ] had rather neglected the first, an,
| always declined the last. But every
thing had changed; since my dream ha,
been but the shadow of this sweet real
| i1y, / seemed TO have reached at on
! bound the very soul of life.
After some months OF solitary wander
ings began to journey slowly homt
ward, pausing at each picturesque vi
lage which took my fancy, and crossin
, the rich Lombard plain to Milan, an
+. SO TO Genoa and the Riviera.
II was late on Christmas eve when
: reached quaint little town near Bord
ghera and drove to the Hotel FraneiI
was very tired, and after supper an
a hasty glance at the beautiful bay, an
a the white moonlight shining on I'll
\, rugged Rocher Rouge, and minglin
! with the glancing lights fitting about
. the steep, arched little streets, | went
= bed, feeling strange sense of familia
: ity and expectancy, which strove
. vain to account for. However, / SOC