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tered the old building, he was astonished at / permit you to leave this house without parthe changes which he beheld every where taking of our hospitality." around him. It is true, nothing betrayed As she uttered these friendly words, that greater wealth on the part of the proprietor, were spoken in a tone which showed that but every thing testified to the unwearied Rubens would not be treated as a stranger and intelligent care which had labored to in Rembrandt's house, she opened the door repair and embellish the half-fallen building. of the studio, and said: The brass locks shone like gold; one could “Dear brother, here is Master Rubens." ascend the steps without, as heretofore, The studio had undergone fewer changes stumbling over rubbish, and the winding than the other parts of the house; the dust, stairs that led from the court were adorned however, which had formerly defaced it, had with blossoming orange trees in large porce-disappeared, and in place of the ill-shaped lain vases.
chimney, which ten years before had served The changes in the inner part of the Dame Catherine for the purposes of cookdwelling were still more striking. The ut- ery, stood a large and handsome stove. At most cleanliness was visible, where formerly the sound of Rubens's name Rembrandt rose lay heaps of dirt and broken crockery; the from his seat, and advanced to meet him. windows were hung with curtains, and sweet “Welcome, King of Antwerp !" he said. flowers diffused on all sides their balmy “ But where has your highness left your acperfume. At the first sound of the bell, a customed train ?" young and active maid-servant opened the At this somewhat ironical salutation, the gate. On entering, Rubens scarcely recog- color mounted to Rubens's face. nized Rembrandt's former dwelling. A
“ That is an attention which my
brother small saloon formed the ante-chamber to the knows how to prize, and for which he is very artist's studio. Here he met an aged dame, grateful to you,” said Rembrandt's sister, whose manners were evidently the result quickly interposing. The old painter glanced rather of natural tact than of the habit of at bis sister, and his face suddenly grew intercourse with the world. Rubens's eye brighter; he reached Rubens his hand in a reposed with pleasure upon her soft and kind and friendly manner. regular features. She was short in stature, “ It is a long time since we have seen and had attained that degree of rotundity each other," he said. “Much has happened which is so well suited to persons of mature in the interval. I am a widower; old Cathyears; she was clad in a cotton gown, and erine, whom you may remember, is dead. wore about her neck a massive golden God be praised !" chain, while a bundle of keys hung at her “ Brother, dear brother !" cried his sister, girdle. A snow-white, neatly-plaited collar interrupting him. encircled her neck; and her luxuriant auburn “My sister Louise now lives with me; hair, which was slightly interspersed with she has left all for her brother's sake, and silver, was fastened together on the top devotes herself solely to his welfare. She is of her head, leaving her brow uncovered. an angel, Rubens ; in truth, an angel !" Rubens bowed respectfully and gave her his As he said this, he wiped a tear from his name.
eye; and Rubens gazed with an air almost of “ Master Rubens !” she exclaimed; “my reverence upon Louise, who blushed like a brother will be proud and happy to receive young maiden. such a guest, for you are our guest, I hope. “ You will meet with a better reception Am I not right! Rubens has certainly not here than you did ten years ago," continued thought of taking up his abode elsewhere Rembrandt. “I blush when I think of it. than with his admirer and rival, Rembrandt.” Louise understands how to receive a guest,
As Rubens excused himself, she said, with except that she expends somewhat too much; a sweet smile :
and when one is but a poor artist, and is " If you have indeed thought otherwise, obliged to toil so hard to support life—but you must at once repair your fault; yes, who comes here? Heaven preserve us ! it is your fault," she repeated. "If you will not Master Nikeler, the Notary. Welcome, my sleep beneath our roof, you must at least worthy friend !" take a place at our table. I am too faithful Louise hastened to meet the man of busia guardian of the honor of our family, to ness.
"My brother is busy at present; he has “ Ten years ago,” said Rembrandt, who no time to speak with you.'
well remembered the occurrence. “It was on “ I bring too good news, my dear dame, to Allhallow night.” depart without informing you of it. Your “Oh, Master Nikeler!" cried Louise, “ you uncle Gerretz is dead, and has left you four must know where this man, this Nicholas hundred thousand florins."
Barruello dwells. Lead me to him at once !" “ Four hundred thousand florins !” ex- “ He lives at the other end of the city, in claimed Rembrandt, with unspeakable de- Rotterdam street." light; “ four hundred thousand florins !" “Let us hasten thither."
“ Eustachius Gerretz left not less than six “ Permit me to accompany you,” said hundred thousand florins, which are to be Rubens to the aged dame; “I also have an divided in three parts: one part for you, act of injustice and forgetfulness to repair.” lady, one for you, Master Rembrandt, and one for the children and heirs of your sister Margaret."
VIL "She is dead,” said Rembrandt. But her children!”
At the time when the tailor, Nicholas “ Her children likewise."
Barruello, found his family suddenly aug“Their death is not yet legally established; mented by two unhappy beings, whom Provand until this is the case, many years will idence had sent to him, he asked himself elapse before you can enter upon possession, anxiously how he should procure a maintenot merely of their third, but even of your nance for three persons, he who had thus far own."
found it hard to provide for himself alone. “Are you sure of this?" asked Rembrandt. But matters turned out better than he had
"Alas!" sighed Louise, “I would with expected. By his industry and activity, and joy resign all this gold, and more, to be able owing to several fortunate accidents, in see my unhappy niece and her children which the signs of the protection of Heaven once again !"
were plainly visible, he never wanted daily “We cannot come into possession of our bread; nay, he had at times his days of fesportions, then, until the heirs of the third are tivity. Not a Sunday went by but the discovered ?"
families of the tailor and the joiner assembled “ Or until you can, in due form, establish at one common table. The future fortunes evidence of their decease," added the notary. of the little Antonio Netcelli were often the
“That shall be done within an hour. subject of their discousre. The youth had The grandson of my sister Margaret must become the joiner's pride, for he handled be still living; or, if he is not, we can easily the plane and the chisel with remarkable procure evidence of his death."
dexterity and admirable judgment. When “My sister's grandson! How, my bro- the tailor and the joiner looked at the drawther ! you knew that he was living, and ings which he prepared as models for various have never spoken to me of the matter! pieces of work, they were unable to control Where is he? Answer me, in the name their astonishment; these sketches obtained of Heaven, in the name of our mother!" also the unanimous applause of the joiner's
“ If the tailor, Nicholas Barruello, has not customers, who were attracted in great numsent him to the hospital,” continued Rem- bers to his shop by the skill of his apprenbrandt, who, solely occupied with the idea of tice. Thus, the good people's days passed their rich inheritance, uttered his thoughts calmly and happily. The only affliction aloud.
which they experienced during the whole “The tailor, Nicholas Barruello ! my ne- ten years was caused by the death of the phew is with him! And why have you kept maniac Netcelli; they had grown accusthis secret from me ?”
tomed to the presence of this unhappy being, “ What would you have, Louise ! To and at his death they wept tears of genuine feed and educate a child, when a man has sorrow. Antonio was for a long time inchildren of his own, and, besides, is only a consolable; yet his father's death did not poor artist ??
render the boy an orphan, for the joiner and “You discovered the existence of this the tailor, especially the latter, treated him child within a few days only, then ?" with a love as tender and devoted as he had
ever experienced from his father when he | hood; you are rich, and will find relatives was in the full possession of his senses. again. Embrace me, my child; I am your
Antonio passed the whole day in the mother's aunt.” joiner's workshop; at evening he visited his Weeping, she reached out her arms tosecond father, who could scarcely await the ward the orphan, and Antonio sank sobbing hour of his dear foster-son's arrival. Supper upon her bosom. was then served by Master Nicholas, and My mother's aunt! my aunt Louise, of Antonio did honor to it with the appetite of a whom my mother so often spoke to me! healthy youth of sixteen. The remainder of Oh, let me embrace you once again!" the evening was spent in reading, drawing, or At this moment heavy steps were heard even painting, for Antonio displayed an un- upon the stairs, and Master Nicholas Barrucommon talent for this art. On undays ello entered the chamber, which, to his exand holidays he locked himself in his cham- treme astonishment, he found filled with ber, took the palette and pencil in his hand, strangers. Antonio tore herself from the and seated himself before an easel of his own arms of Louise to cast himself upon Barrumaking. Here he sketched little paintings, ello's neck. executed without art, but in true and lively “That is my dear aunt,” he cried, “my colors; his models were almost always Mas- mother's aunt! We are now rich; we are ter Netcelli, or his neighbor the joiner. now happy. I shall give up my trade and
Antonio sat thus busied one evening, while become a painter." Barruello had gone out to carry to a cus
Master Nicholas pressed the boy again tomer an old coat which he had repaired, and again to his heart, and cast himself bewhen he heard a knock at the door. He fore an image of the Holy Virgin, to thank hastened to open it, and beheld a small and her for the happiness which she had becrooked old man, dressed in black, a cava- stowed upon his dear Antonio. But sudlier of a lofty, stately figure, and an aged denly his face, which was flushed with joy, dame who seemed greatly agitated. He grew pale, and his features assumed an air saluted them with a friendly air, and asked of sadness and dejection. He fastened a them whether they wished to speak with sorrowful glance upon Antonio, whom his Master Nicholas Barruello.
aunt held closely embraced; then he turned “ He will soon return,” he added. “Have away his head and began to pray again, but the goodness to sit."
tears choked his utterance; he rose quickly, Louise took the chair which Antonio tore Antonio from the arms of his aunt, offered her. Rubens seated himself before clasped him with convulsive violence to his Antonio's easel, and was unable to repress bosom, and cried : an exclamation of admiration, which caused “ You will love her, then, more than the boy to blush deeply.
“Who is your master ?” he said, turning “ More than you, my father!" replied to Antonio.
Antonio, embracing the old man; “no! but “I have none, sir; I devote only my as much, for she is my mother's aunt. You leisure hours to painting; by trade I am a must not be jealous of this affection; it does joiner.”
not in any wise diminish mine towards you, “ You must leave the joiner's bench, and and never, never will we separate! A son become a painter."
should never forsake his father." “Ah, that is easily said, but hard to be “He is right, Master Nicholas; our family done. I and my father must live." will henceforth be yours. Come, my friends,
“Your father !" cried Louise; “is your my brother is waiting for his nephew." father still living ?"
"My uncle !” said Antonio, gloomily, and “No; I mean my foster-father, the good with an air of hesitation. tailor, Master Nicholas, for my poor father is “You must pardon him, as those who are with my mother and little sister in heaven. in heaven pardon him!” murmured Louise, Ah, the story of my life is a very sad one!" softly. “You are Antonio Netcelli, then ?" “Come, then, my father !" cried Antonio,
clasping his arm about Barruello's waist., “My dear child, your life will now change; Young man,” said Rubens, laying his you need no longer work to gain a liveli- | hand upon Antonio's right shoulder, "are
you willing to be my pupil! I will take , while with the right he held that of the
dear mother.” “Rubens !” exclaimed Antonio in aston- Antonio became Rembrandt's pupil, and ishment; "you Rubens !—I a pupil of Ru- soon obtained in Flanders the fame due to bens !"
his distinguished talents. To please his He gazed for some moments at the uncle, he gave a Flemish termination to his renowned painter; then, after some hesita- name, and signed his paintings Kaspar tion, he placed his left hand in his aunt's, Anton Netscher.
I LOVE thee not for rank or gold,
For land or social fashion;
To coin a truo man's passion
Which falls in shadowy showers;
So full of earnest beaming,
And Nature's soul is dreaming.
I love thee not for the noble brow,
Where the shadow of Thought reposes;
The lilies beside the roses
I love thee not for the gentle lays
Which thrill my bosom thorough;
Of endless hope and sorrow.
Which on your forehead hovers,
No eye but mine discovers;
Which is floating still above thee;
I love thee, dear, I love thee.
Of Thomas Gray, one who was no mean | an approved part of the intellectual currency critic has said, “ that he joined to the sublim- of the world. It is said that General Wolfe, ity of Milton the elegance and harmony of the night before his death, as he lay in the Pope, and wanted nothing to have made stern of the boat, gliding with muffled oars him, perhaps, the first of English poets, but down to the place from which he climbed to have written a little more.' The impar- the Heights of Abraham, repeated to a tial judgment of time is evincing the justice brother officer the Elegy in a Country Churchof this praise. His works, of which he him- yard, and at the close of the last verse said, self humorously expressed a fear “lest they "I would rather be the author of that poem should be mistaken for the works of a flea or than master of Quebec to-morrow." This a pismire," are in size inconsiderable indeed. praise does equal honor to the poet and him A few short poems and a volume of familiar who uttered it. We do not undervalua letters to his friends comprise the whole the greatness of that exploit; the preciptious literary productions of his life, the entire re- ascent, the hard-fought battle, the glorious sults of fifty-five years of thought and study. death may well command our praise. But But few as they are, they are a treasure for the judgment of the young soldier, himself a all time, and the precious life-blood of a scholar and a poet, was right. The fame of master-spirit. No poet in the English lan- Gray will still remain after martial glory has guage, who has written so little, is so much ceased to dazzle, and the walls of that towerread and so well known. The fame of almosting fortress are crumbled to dust. all, even of the authors of imperishable We have thought that a brief sketch of this creations, rests upon a small portion of their poet's life might be a not unacceptable offerworks, while the great bulk of them has ing to our readers. It is indeed almost barproved perishable and soon passed away. ren of incidents, the quiet life of a scholar, For every stanza of Pope or Dryden which the history of an intellect rather than of a is now remembered and admired, there are whole pages long since unread and forgot He was born at Cornhill, December 26, ten. But not a line of Gray's will the world 1716, the son of a money scrivener, whose willingly let die; every ray from his genius means, originally slender, had been reduced still shines like the steady light of some far- by extravagance. He was sent from
a boy's off star.
grammar-school to Eton, and from Eton to The quiet scholar, whose taste has been Cambridge. On leaving the University he cultivated by long communion with the designed to pursue the study of the law, but models of antiquity, finds relief in turning after a few months gladly forsook the shrine from the jejune literature of the day, to one of Themis to accompany young Horace whose every line breathes the spirit of the Walpole on his travels
. More than two classics ; while the verses of the Elegy in years were spent in visiting the usual ob a Country Churchyard are familiar as house-jects of interest in middle and southern hold words to all the children in our land. Europe; and then an unfortunate rupture There are few better proofs of an author's with his companion and patron sent him genius, than to have his words pass into home by the nearest and cheapest route. proverbs. It shows that they embody truths Shortly after his return to England, his fato which the heart of universal humanity ther's death left him in yet more straitened responds, and truths so well uttered that all circumstances, and he felt himself too poor mankind adopt the form of their expression. to pursue the profession originally marked By this test we may judge of the merits of out for him. To avoid the importunities of Gray; and after Shakspeare and Milton, we his mother and aunt, who would willingly shall find hardly an English poet so many have stinted themselves to eke out his inof whose lines have become common phrases, I come, he went again to Cambridge, and in