Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1889-05-17
AN ARTISTS VISION.

AN ARTISTS VISION.
How many sleepless nights and weary,
wandering days that haunting face had
cost me, and yet I seemed as far from
its discovery as ever, while the picture
on which my hopes of fame were built
and in which so many beautiful thoughts
and dreams were enshrined, stood I'M
finished on my easel. / strove again and
again to paint the face had seen in my
visions, but alas! the moment | seized my
brushes and palette, I found myself
painting an ordinary woman beauty in
stead of that soulful and mystical lowell
ness grown perfect and precious through
centuries Of spiritual communion with the
denizenS OF the dim land of dreams.
At last, one night, after painting all
day in vain, | threw myself down on a
tiger skin in front OF the picture, utterly
wearied out, and fell asleep, though to
this day I 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 me for the
future pain.
I saw mountainous coast, with deep
purple hills melting into tender ilacs and
faint blues as they met the sky, already
breaking into the golden radiance Of
dawn.
Gradually, as I gazed, the fairness OF
the golden dawn changed into a lurid
coppery hue, and save the bells, not a
sound was heard, while I felt growing
horror and terror in that heavy stagnant
air.
strove to fly, and in the darkness,
which was growing slowly, suffused with
a weird unearthly light, as if the pitilul
stars had faltered back into the morning
sky to comfort the wailing people,
stumbled over something in my path, and
peering down, saw it was an open coffin,
wherein lay yelled woman. Half I'M
consciously [ stretched out my hand to
raise the veil, and saw the hunting face
| sought everywhere in vain for my
picture.
l spcang up with cry of terror, and
awole In my darkened studio. But the
face was as clear now as if she really lay
before me in her coffin, and still very
family | fancied I could hear the clashing
Of those weird bells in the distance.
| lighted my lamp and worked on and
off, with that strange feeling of posses
sion one has sometimes-as if some
mighty power outside US were guiding
oug hands and inspiring our thoughts
Gradually the dawn, faint and pale and
ghostly, as it comes to US in London,
stole into my room. I extinguished my
lamp, bat still worked on, and at last
there lay the lovely face, clear and dis
tinct
My picture, ''The Vision" was duly
sent to the Royal Academy and accepted
not only accepted, indeed, but actually
hung in the place of honor in one of the
best rooms, and | was overwhelmed with
the generous congratulations 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 a dream-face, and
my closest friend, Reginald Doone, ex-
pressed the general feeling, when he
said:
"Ah, well, old man, you want to keep
there is noJ such another face in England.
By Jove!" he broke off under his breath,
with mischievous look at NE, ''look
there; is that dream, too?"
And following his glance, I saw, to
my amazement and delight, the original
OF my picture. Involuntarily 1 glanced
at it. Yes; every line, every curve OF
the sweet face was reproduced with
absolute fidelity, and stood as if turned
to stone as she paused before the picture
and an old gentleman who was with hel
said, in a tone Of surprise:
"Why, Ina, that is your portrait.''
''Oh, no, papa; am not beautiful like
that"
- must have that picture" he added
IS, after another long look, they passed
OF.
had placed a price of 1000 guinea.
on FAY picture, wishing to keep it fo1
myself, and thinking 10 one would b.
likely to give that sum for the work of ;