The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1901-05-07
THE PAINTERS
ANGEL :. :. :. :.
HALLE ERMINIE RIvEs.


and the floor was bare The mans
face was drawn and gaunt, and when
he raised his head his eyes were very
bright.
".These years. he cried to the 81
lence. -Four of them, day after day,
week after week, always striving. al
ways laboring to express the thought
which is in my brain, always impotent
because of poverty, always toiling
through three days that on the fourth
/ may have models and materials for
nv great work! feel the power with
in me, but / am helpless. Others
around me succeed. l envy them, and
my envy strangles the lovely thing
which l try to paint, and its features
grow CHASTITY and hateful to me. If !
could only finish this one picture! But
i cannot without hours of work with
costly models and many days of appli-
cation which must spend in earning
my bread. And the inspiration will
not wait. 1t fades DINNER while !
fight on. If it passes, am lost"
He bowed his head in his hands
again, and his shoulders moved as
though with sobbing.
Just then a figure, white and shining,
drifted down through the open sky
light and stood beside him. The paint
er raised his head. He knew that the
visitor was an angel, for he had seen
angels in his dreams. He clasped his
hands and knelt at the angels feet. and
the tears were still on his face.
The angel was looking at the canvas
spread upon the easel. 1t was a jum-
BILE of huge forms, for the painter was
to represent upon it great allegory
of humanity entitled "The Triumph
of Life" "Why are you not at work r
the stranger asked. The painter
stretched his arms wide with de-
spairing gesture. 1t was hopeless and
helpless. 1t meant want. desire, pow
erty, agony, supplication. all blent into
one.
The angel regarded him pitifully for
q moment. 81 have master" he said,
sin whose gallery are the models OF all
the greatest works of the world.
Nothing is missing. l have come to
give you his invitation to paint in II"
The painter lifted his head eagerly.
There was a question upon his face.
SIT is wide gallery" the angel went
on, with four wings. In these wings
have sat all the great artists of all
times to do their labor. In it they
have received their first inspirations
from the great art ideal of which they
were the Interpreters. There Michael
Angelo brought his rough stone to set
free it's angelic forms: there came Bee
thoven, it's harmonies of form and OF
color hymning themselves to him in
splendid music. Thither came Raphael
to gaze upon the glorious hues and in
the peace and beauty of its aisles to
paint the delicate loveliness of the
Christ child In it's alcoves sat Keats
and Shelley, gazing till its various
beauty rang from their souls into
full and fragile voice of song. There
they framed those sweet harmonies
which, unheard. were sweeter. All
these men have learned in this great
gallery. Today the masters sit In it
working and striving to interpret and,
in giving their all to the world, to
show to those to whom admittance is
forever denied. because they have not
the souls to appreciate this art. little
portion of the enduring beauty of the
collection
81 have never heard of this gallery"
said the painter.
"True," said the angel. "You have
been too busy with this great painting"
He touched the easel as he spoke.
The painter hung his bead. II am
not fit" he said. ''to sit with these
great artists | would better work lon
ger here"
mot So" said the angel gently. "You
have the will to do. The candle is
burning in your soul"
The painters lips moved silently, but
the angel understood him. TAKE me
with you to this gallery" he was say
ing.
uC duSCl oLCPPCO " LIZ W Nf7eOAA- " 49,
dow of the room and flung it open wide.
The painter came and stood beside
him. "Can we see it from here?" said
he. The angel nodded. This is one of
the four great wings Of my masters
gallery" he said. Look"
"The painters gaze followed his. 1t
was spring. A little soft wind was
blowing The starting grass in the gar
den below was light placid green.
Just beyond was peach tree in bloom,
with darling bees about it. There Is
nothing but pastels in this wing said
the angel, 1.-THE soft colors and clear
| tints which belong to an opaque medi-
um" He reached out his hand and
drew in climbing rose that had reach
ed to the easement WAS anything
more exquisiteT he said. Then. softly
and carefully lest it should brush of
its petals against the rough window
ledge, he bent 1t back to its place
against the gray wall
"Close your eyes," the angel said. y
will show you the second wing. The
painter felt himself led to the south
window. ''Now look" said his guide
A strange change had come over the
landscape in that short moment
mellower flush softened the foliage OF
the trees and deepened the hues Of
the blossoms. The sky itself had
stronger and more vivid blue. In this
gallery" said the angel, "are nothing
but oils. This is where Rosa Bonheu
painted Look across to the road ant
you will see the charging, white nance
heroes of the Horse Fair and hea
their neighing. Playing there on tn
post road are the gamins OF MARI
Bashkirtseff. Here are all the land
scapes that were ever spread on can
vas. Today there are scenes OF cain
and quiet; tomorrow my Master VII
cloud his sky, bend mis- trees and Will
his hedges with great wind in orde
that those pupils who wish may hav
for model the gloom and the storm.
With a gesture the angel babe tn
painter close his eyes second tim
and led him to the east window. Wnel
he opened them there had come anotne
subtle change on the world without
The rich tints had disappeared; sur
dued brown had rusted the hedgerows
and wisps of vagrant, motley leave
danced along the paths. The great tree
were bare. and In the network Wnle
their stripped. complaining branche
laced the wind made somber singing
"In this wing" said the angel, "ar
nv Masters etchings. Here are silhos
cites Of forests against a steel SIX.
Here are stretches Of barren seacoas
with lonely dunes. Here are desolai