the mysterious portrait-第14章

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branches　of　trees；　ate　only　uncooked　roots；　dragged　about　a　stone　from

place　to　place；　stood　in　one　spot　with　his　hands　lifted　to　heaven；

from　the　rising　until　the　going　down　of　the　sun；　reciting　prayers

without　cessation。　In　this　manner　did　he　for　several　years　exhaust　his

body；　invigorating　it；　at　the　same　time；　with　the　strength　of　fervent

prayer。



〃At　length；　one　day　he　returned　to　the　cloister；　and　said　firmly　to

the　prior；　'Now　I　am　ready。　If　God　wills；　I　will　finish　my　task。'　The

subject　he　selected　was　the　Birth　of　Christ。　A　whole　year　he　sat　over

it；　without　leaving　his　cell；　barely　sustaining　himself　with　coarse

food；　and　praying　incessantly。　At　the　end　of　the　year　the　picture　was

ready。　It　was　a　really　wonderful　work。　Neither　prior　nor　brethren　knew

much　about　painting；　but　all　were　struck　with　the　marvellous　holiness

of　the　figures。　The　expression　of　reverent　humility　and　gentleness　in

the　face　of　the　Holy　Mother；　as　she　bent　over　the　Child；　the　deep

intelligence　in　the　eyes　of　the　Holy　Child；　as　though　he　saw　something

afar；　the　triumphant　silence　of　the　Magi；　amazed　by　the　Divine

Miracle；　as　they　bowed　at　his　feet：　and　finally；　the　indescribable

peace　which　emanated　from　the　whole　pictureall　this　was　presented

with　such　strength　and　beauty；　that　the　impression　it　made　was

magical。　All　the　brethren　threw　themselves　on　their　knees　before　it；

and　the　prior；　deeply　affected；　exclaimed；　'No；　it　is　impossible　for

any　artist；　with　the　assistance　only　of　earthly　art；　to　produce　such　a

picture：　a　holy；　divine　power　has　guided　thy　brush；　and　the　blessing

of　Heaven　rested　upon　thy　labour！'



〃By　that　time　I　had　completed　my　education　at　the　academy；　received

the　gold　medal；　and　with　it　the　joyful　hope　of　a　journey　to　Italythe

fairest　dream　of　a　twenty…year…old　artist。　It　only　remained　for　me　to

take　leave　of　my　father；　from　whom　I　had　been　separated　for　twelve

years。　I　confess　that　even　his　image　had　long　faded　from　my　memory。　I

had　heard　somewhat　of　his　grim　saintliness；　and　rather　expected　to

meet　a　hermit　of　rough　exterior；　a　stranger　to　everything　in　the

world；　except　his　cell　and　his　prayers；　worn　out；　tried　up；　by　eternal

fasting　and　penance。　But　how　great　was　my　surprise　when　a　handsome　old

man　stood　before　me！　No　traces　of　exhaustion　were　visible　on　his

countenance：　it　beamed　with　the　light　of　a　heavenly　joy。　His　beard；

white　as　snow；　and　his　thin；　almost　transparent　hair　of　the　same

silvery　hue；　fell　picturesquely　upon　his　breast；　and　upon　the　folds　of

his　black　gown；　even　to　the　rope　with　which　his　poor　monastic　garb　was

girded。　But　most　surprising　to　me　of　all　was　to　hear　from　his　mouth

such　words　and　thoughts　about　art　as；　I　confess；　I　long　shall　bear　in

mind；　and　I　sincerely　wish　that　all　my　comrades　would　do　the　same。



〃'I　expected　you；　my　son；'　he　said；　when　I　approached　for　his

blessing。　'The　path　awaits　you　in　which　your　life　is　henceforth　to

flow。　Your　path　is　puredesert　it　not。　You　have　talent：　talent　is　the

most　priceless　of　God's　giftsdestroy　it　not。　Search　out；　subject　all

things　to　your　brush；　but　in　all　see　that　you　find　the　hidden　soul；

and　most　of　all；　strive　to　attain　to　the　grand　secret　of　creation。

Blessed　is　the　elect　one　who　masters　that！　There　is　for　him　no　mean

object　in　nature。　In　lowly　themes　the　artist　creator　is　as　great　as　in

great　ones：　in　the　despicable　there　is　nothing　for　him　to　despise；　for

it　passes　through　the　purifying　fire　of　his　mind。　An　intimation　of

God's　heavenly　paradise　is　contained　for　the　artist　in　art；　and　by

that　alone　is　it　higher　than　all　else。　But　by　as　much　as　triumphant

rest　is　grander　than　every　earthly　emotion；　by　so　much　is　the　lofty

creation　of　art　higher　than　everything　else　on　earth。　Sacrifice

everything　to　it；　and　love　it　with　passionnot　with　the　passion

breathing　with　earthly　desire；　but　a　peaceful；　heavenly　passion。　It

cannot　plant　discord　in　the　spirit；　but　ascends；　like　a　resounding

prayer；　eternally　to　God。　But　there　are　moments；　dark　moments'　He

paused；　and　I　observed　that　his　bright　face　darkened；　as　though　some

cloud　crossed　it　for　a　moment。　'There　is　one　incident　of　my　life；'　he

said。　'Up　to　this　moment；　I　cannot　understand　what　that　terrible　being

was　of　whom　I　painted　a　likeness。　It　was　certainly　some　diabolical

apparition。　I　know　that　the　world　denies　the　existence　of　the　Devil；

and　therefore　I　will　not　speak　of　him。　I　will　only　say　that　I　painted

him　with　repugnance：　I　felt　no　liking　for　my　work；　even　at　the　time。　I

tried　to　force　myself；　and；　stifling　every　emotion　in　a　hard…hearted

way；　to　be　true　to　nature。　I　have　been　informed　that　this　portrait　is

passing　from　hand　to　hand；　and　sowing　unpleasant　impressions；

inspiring　artists　with　feelings　of　envy；　of　dark　hatred　towards　their

brethren；　with　malicious　thirst　for　persecution　and　oppression。　May

the　Almighty　preserve　you　from　such　passions！　There　is　nothing　more

terrible。'



〃He　blessed　and　embraced　me。　Never　in　my　life　was　I　so　grandly　moved。

Reverently；　rather　than　with　the　feeling　of　a　son；　I　leaned　upon　his

breast；　and　kissed　his　scattered　silver　locks。



〃Tears　shone　in　his　eyes。　'Fulfil　my　one　request；　my　son；'　said　he；　at

the　moment　of　parting。　'You　may　chance　to　see　the　portrait　I　have

mentioned　somewhere。　You　will　know　it　at　once　by　the　strange　eyes；　and

their　peculiar　expression。　Destroy　it　at　any　cost。'



〃Judge　for　yourselves　whether　I　could　refuse　to　promise；　with　an　oath；

to　fulfil　this　request。　In　the　space　of　fifteen　years　I　had　never

succeeded　in　meeting　with　anything　which　in　any　way　corresponded　to

the　description　given　me　by　my　father；　until　now；　all　of　a　sudden；　at

an　auction〃



The　artist　did　not　finish　his　sentence；　but　turned　his　eyes　to　the

wall　in　order　to　glance　once　more　at　the　portrait。　The　entire　throng

of　auditors　made　the　same　movement；　seeking　the　wonderful　portrait

with　their　eyes。　But；　to　their　extreme　amazement；　it　was　no　longer　on

the　wall。　An　indistinct　murmur　and　exclamation　ran　through　the　crowd；

and　then　was　heard　distinctly　the　word；　〃stolen。〃　Some　one　had

succeeded　in　carrying　it　off；　taking　advantage　of　the　fact　that　the

attention　of　the　spectators　was　distracted　by　the　story。　And　those

present　long　remained　in　a　state　of　surprise；　not　knowing　whether　they

had　really　seen　those　remarkable　eyes；　or　whether　it　was　simply　a

dream　which　had　floated　for　an　instant　before　their　eyesight；　strained

with　long　gazing　at　old　pictures。