* 
 
WELL BEGUN IS HALF DONE, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE YOIJNG PAINTER; 
 
 AND 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 TALES TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 
 EICHARD BARON AND DR. C. DEUTSCH. 
 
 BY 
 
 QLxancxmantci. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 P. O'SIIEA, PUBLISnER, 
 57 BARCLAY STREET. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congreas, in tAejear IMT, 
 Bt p. O'Shsa. 
 
 til* Ulerk's Office cf the District Court of the Uiiited Atateit V CbC 
 fioathern District <A X«w Totk. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 Dear Agxes : — 
 I scarcely venture, with your maturing 
 years and already ripened intellect, to dedi- 
 cate to you a book for children. And yet I 
 feel quite sure you will find pleasure in the 
 simple but lofty lessons taught in the accom- 
 panying beautiful talcs, as well as appreciate 
 the affection which leads me to wish to see 
 your name at their head. 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 THE TRANSLATOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PA as 
 
 WELL BEGUN IS HALF DONE, OR THE YOUNG 
 
 PAINTER, BY EICIIARD BARON 1 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS, BY DR. C. DEUTSCH .... 203 
 
WELL BEGUN IS HALF DONE, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
CnAPTER I. 
 
 THE LITTLE PAINTER's JOYS AND SORROWS. 
 
 The villaf^o school of Rciclicntlial was not a 
 "wliit loss bustling and noisy than most country 
 Ecliools of its class, and at the particular time 
 of the commencement of our story the humhlo 
 Avails re-echoed with the usual din ; the hum- 
 ming of many youthful voices, studying, recit- 
 ing, or indulging in the delights of a stolen 
 and whispered interchange of views and opin- 
 ions. 
 
 The master was walking up and down be- 
 fore his scholars, and eloquently expounding 
 the mysteries of the noble art of calculation. 
 His discourse was frequently interrupted by 
 questions, which were sometimes addressed to 
 single individuals, and sometimes were ex- 
 pected to be answered by a band of united 
 
4. 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTER. 
 
 voices, all tlio boys and girls joining in full 
 chorus. 
 
 Suddenly, the zealous master arrested his 
 course, and fastened a sharp glance upon one 
 of the boys in the front row. The child hastily 
 strove to conceal a paper beneath the table. 
 
 ^' What can that troublesome boy have been 
 scribbling at again?'' cried the master. "Out 
 with it ! " 
 
 The boy blushed deeply, cast an imploring 
 glance upon the master's face, and stammered 
 a few unintelligible words, while his neighbors 
 on either hand secretly tittered among them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Out with it, I tell you ! Some stupid thing, 
 I '11 warrant. Come, make haste ! " 
 
 The little culprit trembled as he slowly drew 
 forth a sheet of paper from beneath the table. 
 The master seized it, placed his spectacles upon 
 his great nose, and with an ominous shake of 
 the head regarded the image which met his 
 view. 
 
 " What is this ? " he finally cried. " I act- 
 ually believe the boy has been intending to 
 caricature me ! As true as I live ! And what 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 5 
 
 a nose lie has given me. Ah ! you little rascal, 
 is this tlie way you make fun of your master ? " 
 
 ^'Pardon! pardon! " begged the boy, implor- 
 ingly lifting his beautiful eyes, now £:urrutcd 
 with tears. 
 
 " Yes, pardon ! That is what you always 
 say. How many thousand times have I told 
 you to quit this eternal sketching and caricatur- 
 ing ! But every scrap of paper that falls into 
 the boy's clutches is covered in a trice with 
 dogs, horses, houses, even men's heads, — and 
 I must confess they look so natural that one 
 might almost fancy them real ! " 
 
 Ah ! dear master," cried the boy, " indeed 
 I cannot help it." 
 
 Cannot help it ! Come here, and I will 
 show you that you both can and must help it ! 
 Look ! — you have drawn me with a fme rod 
 in my hand ! You shall find that I do not 
 carry it for nothing. Come here, sir! " 
 
 Then followed a short castigation, to which 
 the little sketcher patiently and humbly sub- 
 mitted. He then returned to his place, and 
 when the interrupted lesson was again resumed, 
 his attention and the correctness of his answers 
 
THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 showed that lie could not only make pictures, 
 but that ho was also well advanced in the more 
 practical branches of education. 
 
 The bell finally rang, and school was out. 
 The children rushed joyously into the open 
 play-ground. Gustaviis, — for such Avas the 
 boy's name, — in obedience to the master's 
 command, remained behind. 
 
 " Gustavus," said the latter, " I punished 
 you to-day because you chose me, your master, 
 as a subject for ridicule. In the Word of God 
 stands the law : ' Thou shalt honor thy father 
 and thy mother,' and' this law includes thy 
 superiors ! Do you comprehend that ? " 
 
 " Yes, I understand it, and I beseech you to 
 forgive me ! " said the boy, with unaffected con- 
 trition. 
 
 " Well then, — you are forgiven. But, for 
 Heaven's sake, tell me Avhat all this everlasting 
 drawing and painting means ? In other re- 
 spects you are a very sensible boy. You read 
 like a mill-clapper, you reckon like a clerk, 
 you learn your hymns and verses better than 
 any of the others, and you write almost as well 
 as your master. And yet you will not quit 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 7 
 
 coTcriiig your books and every wall and barn 
 door with your cndloes scribbling. Iley, now ! 
 Uow is all this to end ? " 
 
 " I do not know," ropliod Gustaviis. But 
 you see, djar mastor, my head is always filled 
 with £0 many strange pictures. Day and night, 
 Avaking and sleeping, tlicy dance before my 
 eyes, and give me no rest. Then something 
 forces me to seize on the first pen or pencil, bit 
 of chalk or charcoal, I can find, and note down 
 with my fingers all that is passing through my 
 brain. And then I feel so happy ! Oh ! so 
 happy ! " 
 
 The master shook his head. 
 
 " This is a wonderful gift of God, which may 
 readily become very dangerous to you. Your 
 mother tells me that you are very idle at home, 
 and that you give her a great deal of trouble." 
 
 TJie boy's eyes filled with tears. " Ah ! " 
 cried he, " tliat is very true ; both fatlicr and 
 mother are often dissatisfied with me. I liate 
 chopping and digging, spinning and looking 
 after the cows. I want to go out into the wide, 
 wida world. I want — I know not exactly 
 what ! " 
 
8 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTEIi. 
 
 " Come, come," caicl tho master, kindlj, 
 " composo yourself! The world is indeed 
 very wide, and you are still a very young and 
 a totally inexperienced lad. The world is like 
 a great shark with a monstrous pair of jaws, — 
 it might easily swallow you down, skin and 
 hair and all ! Tlie best thing for you will be 
 to stay at home and perform all your duties. 
 And now go, and remember this command- 
 ment : ' Children, obey your parents for tho 
 sake of the Lord ! ' " 
 
 Gustavus went, and with the usual elasticity 
 of youth, soon recovered from tlic painful im- 
 pressions produced by the conversation held 
 with his master. He rapidly hastened toward 
 his father's cottage, which, surrounded by its 
 pretty garden, lay on tlie outskirts of the vil- 
 lage. Behind it rose a lofty eminence, and tlie 
 little side windows looked out upon a noble 
 forest of oaks and beeches. 
 
 " Mother ! " cried the boy to a woman clad 
 in the ordinary dress of the peasants in that 
 part of the country, — " mother, I will dig and 
 delve to-day with all my might ; only let me 
 have the spade and tho rake that I may finish 
 something worth speaking of before noon." 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 
 
 Ere tho mother, according to her usual cus- 
 tom, had time to warn him against idleness and 
 day-dreaming, he was already in the garden, 
 and the dexterity with which he handled the 
 implements proved that he not only possessed 
 a nobly gifted intellect, but that God had also 
 endowed him with a strong and healthy body. 
 
 We will leave him at his work, and inquire 
 a little more closely into his actual condition 
 and circumstances ; for our young readers will 
 already have divined that he is to be the hero 
 of our tale. 
 
 Braun, Giistavus's fostor-fathcr, — for such 
 was tho real connection between the boy and 
 tho peasant, — was an under forester in tho 
 royal service. This post had been conferred 
 upon him as a reward for his good conduct 
 during the recent war. The salary, however, 
 was very small, and barely sufficed to keep his 
 family above the pressure of actual want. In 
 addition to Gustavus, he had five children of 
 liis own, and the little household could scarcely 
 have continued to exist, had not Braun 's exer- 
 tions been aided by tho industry and careful 
 management of his wife. 
 
10 
 
 THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 Oustavus vras the father's darling, — but by 
 no in3a:is tlic mother's. An impenetrable mjs- 
 i2:'y diroudod liis origin. All that was known 
 was, that Wiien Braun had returned from the 
 vrars, he had brought the child with him. But 
 Vv'hero or how he had come into his possession 
 had either never been related, or had been for- 
 gotten. In sliort, Gustavus was regarded as 
 Braun' s adopted son, and no further considera- 
 tion was bestowed upon the subject Braun 
 had not married until after his return, and the 
 boy had failed in winning his adopted mother's 
 love. The peasant woman was by no means 
 ill disposed, but the alTcction she bore her own 
 offspring ro entirely filled her heart, that she 
 had none to spare for t!ie little stranger. 
 
 Yv'hen bhc found her family increasing very 
 rapidly, and began to fear lest there should be 
 come difficulty in providing for them all, Gus- 
 tavus only appeared to her in the light of an 
 unwelcome intruder who liad no claim upon 
 licr care or attention. In addition to this, the 
 ch.ild's peculiarities of mind and temperament, 
 as tlicy had early developed themselves, wcro 
 i:) dii-ect opposition to all t!io ideas, and Gvcii 
 
THE YOrXG rAIXTEE. 
 
 11 
 
 Vaz very nature, of tlio activo and industrious 
 •woman. When littlo inoro than an infant, 
 Gustavus had displayed traits cf character u:i- 
 nsual in a peasant boy ; ho preferred to wander 
 alone throu<»-li the neighboring wood, and for 
 liours tvOgether would watcli tlie gay rports cf 
 tlie birds, the equirrels, the deer, or other liv- 
 ing creatures abounding in the forest, or, lying 
 at the foot of some tall tree, ho would seem 
 never to weary of gazing upon the danchig 
 leaves, the blue ^:ky, or the floating clouds. 
 
 Wlien he grew older, lie was seized with an 
 unconquerable desire of imitating wit!i his 
 pencil everything he saw ; and, rough as the 
 sketches vrerc, they excited universal astonish- 
 ment from their spirit and exactitude. The 
 cottage and outbuildings bore numberless 
 traces of the boy's peculiar mania. On tlio 
 barn door, a lusty cavalier was seen gallopijig 
 away on a spirited steed, a troop of cavalry 
 Wiiich liad shortly before passed tlirough t!io 
 village liaving afforded the model. As a com- 
 panion to this, was a sketch of a traveller 
 mounted on an ass, wiiose picturesque appear- 
 ■auGq and appoiiitmoi^ts fur OiiDun tain .travel 
 
12 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTER. 
 
 liad attracted the boy's fancy. The white- 
 Avaslicd cottage walls were covered witli scenes 
 from the Old Testament, evidently copied from 
 tlio pictures in the village church. The peak 
 of the roof was adorned with a variety of comi- 
 cal figures, modelled in clay, and representing* 
 men or animals. Neither tlie stranger nor the 
 villager could pass by the little dwelling with- 
 out glancing upward, and bestowing a smile or 
 a look of wonder upon this singular assemblage 
 of images ; and endless were the questions 
 asked concerning the artist who had conceived 
 and executed so many curious and beautiful 
 designs. 
 
 We may readily imagine that these favorite 
 pursuits cost Gustavus many precious hours, 
 and also that they were a source of unceasing 
 contention with his foster-motlier, Avho would 
 have much preferred seeing him, in winter, at 
 the spinning-wheel ; and in summer, caring for 
 the cows and goats, or laboring in the garden. 
 She thouglit the little stranger in duty bound to 
 earn the bread which lie consumed, and when- 
 ever Gustavus stole away from his work to liis 
 beloved pictiu'cs, the trausgrcsfdon ^vas speed- 
 
TH'C YOUNG PAINTEn. 
 
 13 
 
 ily followed by many and loud roproaclicf:, 
 not infrequently accoinpanicd by corporal pu:> 
 iduuont. Tho fat-ior, too, when in tijo cvoning 
 li3 returned from the forest, was often assailed 
 witli a volley of complaints, and much domchtic 
 eloquence was he forced to expend in pacifying 
 t:ie good dame, and in moderating her indig- 
 nation at " that idle, good-for-notliing, scrib- 
 bling lad," as she called Gustavus, whoso 
 designs were in her eyes nothing more than 
 the marring of unsullied walls, a:id the soiling 
 of clean places with useless dirt. 
 
 Thus, among many joys and many sorrows, 
 had Gustavus grown into an active, spirited, 
 and healthy boy. It was a real pleasure to 
 look upon liis fmc, open countenance, from 
 which shone two clear, dark eyes, and round 
 Avhicli waved a profusion of graceful brown 
 curls. All his motions, his walk, and liis Lm- 
 guage, were marked by a certain grace and 
 elegance which advantageously distinguished 
 him from the other village boys of his own age. 
 And if drawing and painting were his favorite 
 occupations, yet, aided by his excellent memory 
 and quick understanding, ho had readily ac 
 
 2 
 
14 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINT EP., 
 
 quired all tliat was to bo banied i:i Va2 vlilag? 
 Lcliool. 
 
 JIo had also eagerly devoured revoral works 
 o:i liistory owned by his father, and cuudry 
 treatises on natural history lent him by the 
 village pastor, witli whom he was a great 
 favorite. He was thus well advanced for his 
 years and circumstanc3s, and t!ie travellers 
 wliom lie sometimes guided over the neighbor- 
 ing mountain were always surprised at the 
 quickness of his perceptions, tlie -soundness of 
 his judgment, and liis tasteful and accurate use 
 of language. 
 
 lie also possessed a good heart and a kind 
 and loving disposition. Even liis foster-motli- 
 cr's want of affection, and rough treatment, 
 had failed in exciting tlie faintest emotion of 
 bitterness in his soul ; indeed, his gentleness 
 and submission not infrequently disarmed t'.ie 
 good dame's anger, when she fancied herself 
 especially aggrieved through his love of reve- 
 ri:;, or tlie ill-timed pursuit of his favorite art. 
 
 Il3 trer.ted his little brothers and sisters 
 jnost affectionately ; he protected tliem, played 
 Avitli them, and rejoiced tlicir innocent hearta 
 
Tin: Youxo PAiNTrn. 
 
 15 
 
 with Jill manner of I'tlb figures (.laiiilily fi^si" 
 ijiied from wooJ or bark. lJ:s deepest f.'jl- 
 ings, liowevcr, were all tbvotad to liis fo^ tor- 
 father, who, although a plain and unlearned 
 man, had heart and mind cnougli to recognize 
 t!ie boy's superior gifts, and to love him as if 
 he had been his own ^:on. 
 
 We Avill now return to our hero, in whore 
 behalf wo hope this short account will have 
 excited the sympathy of our readers. The sun 
 shone down bright and Avarm from the heavens 
 as t!ie boy pursu3d his laborious task of digging 
 trenches, which he then carefully filled witli 
 tender young ])lants. But his heart was not 
 in his work. His imagination was revelling in 
 some far distant scenes, and Avas filled with an 
 endless succession of lovely i)ictures. 
 
 Gustavus had a few days before guided sev- 
 eral travellers across the mountain, and the 
 loveliness of the scenery through whicli he had 
 passed was ever before him. Also, the travel- 
 lers liad been so lively, and had treated tlie 
 bright, intelligent boy so kindly, that Avherevcr 
 he turned he saw their benevolent faces Avitli 
 his inward eye. " 0, if I could only paint 
 
IG THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 you now, you doar, good people ! " thought 
 Gustavus. " Well, so I could, for you Ltaiid 
 before me as if you Avcre actually about to 
 speak. But I cannot satisfy myself with chalk 
 and coal ! Ah ! if I only had a piece of clean 
 "white paper, with a pencil, a brush, and some 
 colors ! — Well, I Avill try just once ! But 
 no," continued he, again seizing upon the 
 spade which he had left standing in the trench ; 
 " no, I promised my mother to work steadily 
 on until noon. She shall not always be forced 
 to scold me as an idle, lazy boy ! " 
 
 He continued to dig, but the thought of 
 drawing his d^ar travelling companions was too 
 enticing, — tlie temptation proved too strong. 
 
 " I can easily spare a couple of minutes, I 
 can then work twice as fast," thought he, as ho 
 slipped away towards the door of an enclosure 
 which still oiTered him a smooth, unsullied sur- 
 face. He found a piece of charcoal in his 
 pocket, and hastily began liis work. He had 
 already sketched a huge rock, at whose foot 
 the company were to be placed; the beautiful 
 lady and the venerable old man with the long 
 beard were already drawn 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 17 
 
 Wlien suddenly tlic shrill voice of his foster- 
 mother fjU upon his ear, ccolding in no gentb 
 tones. "Just look !" she cried, just look at 
 that good-for-nothing boy. I fancy him work- 
 ing in the garden like a reasonable Christian, 
 and there he is lounging at the barn doors, and 
 scratching them all over with his frightful 
 puppets ! 
 
 We will spare our young readers the flood 
 of reproaches which overwhelmed the poor lad. 
 Gustavus slipped quietly away, really ashamed 
 at his own forgetfulness, and ready to do any- 
 thing to show his sorrow and avert the storm. 
 
 During the remainder of this day, and the 
 next following, no more industrious, willing, 
 and obliging boy than Gustavus showed himself 
 to be could be found iu any houschoM or m 
 any school-room. 
 
 2# 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 GUSTAVU3 DETERMINES TO BE A TAIXTER, AXD 
 LEARNS now FATHER ERAUN CAME TO ADOPT 
 IHM. 
 
 Time passed, and Gustavus was now about 
 fourteen years old, circumstances rendering it 
 impossible to determine exactly the date of bis 
 birth. On the morning of that joyful day 
 "which wc commemorate in honor of our Lord'a 
 ascension, the boy had received the Sacrament 
 of confirmation. 
 
 During the afternoon of the same day the 
 fj-tber tlu'ow bis gun over bis shoulder, calbd 
 tlie boy, and bade him accompany liim to tbo 
 wood, as be bad mucli to say to him. They 
 went, and were soon walking together beneath 
 tlie spreading branches of the lofty birches, 
 oaks, and beeches, which, although devoid of 
 
TIIK YOLXG PAINTEll, 
 
 IQ 
 
 foliage, yet by the swelling cf their buds 
 already announced the joyful approach of 
 spring. Above them was the clear blue 
 heaven, whence shone the sun so bright and 
 warm that all nature seemed to feel the call to 
 a renewal of life and activity ; the first spring 
 birds twittered, the numerous tribes cf insects 
 and harmless reptiles began to creep cut cf 
 tlieir secret recesses, and the carlieit flovrcrs 
 peeped up with their tender, bright little eyes 
 through the dry moss and dead leaves. It was 
 one of those lovely days Avhen the power cf 
 God seems to breathe anevr athwart creation, 
 endowing all his works witli new beauty and 
 vigor. At such times, too, the hearts cf men 
 are filled witli strange divinings, and lifted far 
 above the sordid cares of earth on the wings cf 
 blissful emotion. 
 
 They finally came to a small clcarir.g on t!ie 
 summit of a hill, whence their eyes could 
 wander over t!ie wide-spread forest lying at 
 llieir feet, with its singing brooks, lovely val- 
 leys, and scattered villages. 
 
 Let us sit here ! " said the father. 'T is 
 a holy day, and the wild creatures of the wood 
 
20 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 dr.iU also rost ; I only hope tho poachers and 
 vrood thiovos will loavo mo a littb ropose. I 
 liavo many important things to talk to thcc 
 about, Gustavus." 
 
 Thoy sat down Tipon tho trunk of a fallen 
 tr33. GustaA'us gazed silently and expectantly 
 into his father's honest face. The good man 
 b3gan as follows : — " This has been a happy day 
 f jr me. My heart overflowed with joy Avhcn I 
 caw thee stand before the altar, and heard thoe 
 saw thee stand before the altar, and there 
 renew thy vow to remain a faithful and upright 
 servant of thy Saviour, of that Holy One whom 
 \73 men are all bound tlu'ough life and deatli 
 to f.)llow. All my hopes v.nth regard to thee 
 have been fulfilled. And yet my heart is full 
 of anxiety on thy account." 
 
 On my account ? How, father, have I 
 given thee cause for sorrow ? 
 
 " No, thou hast given me no cause ! But thy 
 future fate occasions me much anxiety. Gus- 
 tavus, what is to become of thee ? " 
 
 Tlie boy made no reply ; his head sank, and 
 liis eyes were thoughtfully fixed upon tho 
 ground. 
 
 Thou seest, my boy, thy life henceforth 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER, 
 
 21 
 
 must bo very different from wliat it has liith- 
 crto l)eeii. Thou art no lo'ngcr a child. Tliou 
 hast left thy school days behind thee, and it 
 Avill not bo well for theo longer to remain be- 
 neath my roof." 
 
 " Thou art riglit, father ! " cried Gustavus. 
 
 I must go ! Ah ! I have long enough been 
 a burden to you all ! " 
 
 " Say not so ! Thou hast never been a bur- 
 don to mo. I liavo always considered thee as 
 a gift from hoavon, and God is my witness tliat 
 I havo never for one singlo moment repented 
 havhig taken theo to my heart when I boro 
 llioo in my arms from the bloody battle-field, 
 and most probably, by so dohig. saved thy 
 life." 
 
 ^* I know it ! I know it ! " cried Gustavus, 
 with groat tears standing in his eyes. " Thou 
 hast always been my kind and faithful fatlier, 
 and I thank thee for all — all ! But thou art 
 poor, father ! Thou hast more than enough 
 to do to provide for those who have a nearer 
 claim upon theo than 1. I then can, and will, 
 no longer bo a burden to thee." 
 
 " Speak no more of that. As long as I havo 
 
22 
 
 Tllli YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 a morsel of bread, Gustavus, lliero will always 
 be a bliaro for thee. I3ut we iniist view tliis 
 matter from a different point of viev/. Thou 
 must liave come settled occupation, come op- 
 portunity for advancement." 
 
 '•And what doct tliou tliink I liad better 
 be ? " asked the boy, gazing intently upon his 
 father's face. 
 
 " I have thouglit much upon the ruhject. 
 Y/e must here do, uot so mucli vrliat we vrouli 
 desire, as wliat vre can and must. I IdWit. 
 iiourislicd t!ie hope that v/e vrould one day 
 discover tliy parents. At first, I made every 
 possible c.Tort — all in vain — and then I 
 tlioiiglit some accident might perliaps throve 
 us upon their traces. I now see that such 
 hopes are vain and idle. I believe that tlie 
 rank and circumstances amid Vvdiich thou wert 
 born aro no longer possibilities for thee ; tliou 
 must then cheerfully renounce all thought of 
 tliem, and take life as God lias willed it for 
 theo. Th.ou art the son of Braun, the poor 
 forester of Reichenthal, and, as tliy father, I 
 can only say to thee, thou must learn a 
 trad J ! " 
 
THE YOUNG rAIXTER. 
 
 23 
 
 " Loarii a trado ! " repeated Giutaviis iu a 
 low tone, at tlie camo time cniittii:g a deep 
 
 I fjared, indeed, that my proposition would 
 i:ot pbaso tliee. Eiit 1 sec no other path open. 
 Tliou knowest I can afibrd thee but very little 
 acdstance. Thou must open a Avay for thyself 
 v/hich will one day lead thee to an independent 
 hearthstone of thine own. Believe me, every 
 trade may lead to a gold mine ! Industry, 
 skill, and uprig'htness must insure success. 
 Lut perhaps thou thiidvest tliyself too good for 
 a trade ! Such an idea vrould really pain me 
 deeply. 
 
 I know many a mechanic Vvdio, in God's 
 eyes, is v/ortli much more than many an idler 
 clothed in silk, and taking his ease in a gilded 
 chariot. The main point is, that tliou shculdit 
 be a good, honest, and religious man. I think 
 a shooraakcr, a weaver, or a carpenter can 
 servo God, enjoy life, and benefit his fellovr- 
 men as well as his more aspiring brotlier mor- 
 tals. Vf hat saycst tliou to that ? " 
 
 " 0, thou art right, quite right ! Eut, dear 
 father, do not tliiiik mo .dlly cr absurd. . 1 fear 
 
21 
 
 t:i:: young painter:. 
 
 it will bo impossibb for mo ever io bccoino a 
 mocliaiiic." 
 
 The father sadly sliook liis lieacl. I feared 
 tins," said he, as if speaking to liimsclf. "The 
 lad has a proud heart ; he must have been born 
 with it. 1 may perhaps have erred in ciilTering 
 him too far to follow the bent of his own incli- 
 nations. My consideration for him as the pos- 
 sible offspring of noble parents is now bringing 
 its own punishmc:it. — Well, speak then, and 
 tell me what thy plans are," added he, after a 
 diort pause. 
 
 " Thou seest, father, if one desires to learn 
 and skilfully practise the simplest trade, one 
 must possess both love and capacity for one's 
 business : I feel within me neither inclination 
 nor capacity. By capacity I do not mean the 
 power wliicli lies in the hands or tlie feet : cf 
 tliat I possess an abundance ; but I now speak 
 of that inner power wliich can alone guide a 
 man in t!ie production of anything worthy or 
 excellent. I sliould most certainly be the 
 mobt awkward, useless, and unhappy mechanic 
 living." 
 
 " Gustavus! GustavusI " cried Braun, mouni- 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 25 
 
 fully sinking liis head. " Dost tlioii llicn iiitciul 
 to do nothing, to be of no use in the Avorld ? " 
 
 " no, father ! I fool Lomcthiiig wltliin 
 rno, — comcthing I can neither name nor 
 ccribo, but which tolls mo that my lifo will i:ct 
 liave been in vain, and that no shame Avill ever 
 tarnish my name. It drives mo out into llio 
 "world. I must go hence. surely, I wi'.l 
 discover and win all that noAV renders me both 
 happy and unhappy, and waking cr sleeping 
 loaves me no repose." 
 
 But unless thou intendest to bo a mere 
 dreamer, a forlorn wanderer upon the face of 
 the earth, thou must determine upon somethir>g 
 defmite." 
 
 " I will be a painter ! " 
 
 The father lifted his hands in amazement. 
 "A painter!" cried he, — "a painter! And 
 this is my reward ! Have I not always re- 
 joiced in the lad's drawing and painting, ar^d 
 now must that veiy talent bring me only anxi- 
 ety and sorrow ? " 
 
 " Yes, father, I will be a painter ! Do not 
 think this an idea of to-day or yesterday. Xo, 
 it has filled my mind for years. I have never 
 
 3 
 
THE YOrXO PAINTEK. 
 
 seen a picture without feeling a desire cither to 
 liave painted it, or to be able to copy it. When- 
 ever my cyc3 fell upon any lovely scene or im- 
 age, my fingers burned to transfer it to paper or 
 canvas. Dost thou think a merciful God Vv'ouli 
 have gifted me with this intense longing, had 
 it not been intended to serve some good pur- 
 pose ? Is it not our duty to employ to the 
 best advantage the tale:it vrit!i which v/o have 
 been intrusted ? " 
 
 Ah, Gustavus, into what a sea of troubles 
 thy foolish passion for painting plunges me ! 
 Even allowing thee to liave the natural gifts 
 requisite to success, where art thou to find the 
 means of pursuing thy studies, and where 
 wilt thou find a master ? IIow canst thou 
 overcome the thousand obstacles Avhich lie in 
 thy patli ? TIiou secmcst to me like one who 
 sees afar off a glittering palace which he has 
 set his heart upon reacliing, forgetful of the 
 broad, deep stream rolling at his feet, with 
 neither bridge nor boat to bear him across the 
 turbid waters. And even shouldst thou suc- 
 ceed in reaching the goal, it might turn out to 
 be ajnercair castlo.'^ 
 
THE YOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 27 
 
 "No, father!" cried Gustavus. "As I 
 stood this morning before the altar, pen- 
 etrated with a devout and prayerful joy, and 
 as I earnestly implored of God the fulfilment 
 of my heart's desire, my soul was so filled 
 vrith a holy peace and a cheerful confidence, 
 that I now feel quite sure of attaining my end. 
 ' Seek and you shall find, ask and you shall 
 receive ! * Hast thou not often reminded me 
 of that saying of our Lord's ? " 
 
 " But, Gustavus, I must again repeat that I 
 see no possibility of thy finding the necessary 
 means. How wilt thou even begin ? " 
 
 " I will tell thee all as I have thought it out. 
 Grant me one year, dear father ! I will go to 
 Brcslau, and will seek a master. I will not 
 ceaso my search until I have succeeded. 0, 
 father ! It cannot be that every door and 
 every lieart will be closed against me ! Wlien 
 I have found one willing to take pity on a poor 
 boy, I Vvill study, labor, and paint, so that the 
 very angels in heaven will rejoice ever my 
 success. But if I am disappointed, if I find no 
 master, or if I see that I can do notlnng vrorthy 
 cf thy con, I v^ill return at the end cf the year. 
 
28 
 
 THE YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 and will consent to bccomo whatever thou 
 mayost desire." 
 
 The father thoughtfully shook his head. 
 " No, no," cried lie, after a pause," that will 
 never do. It would be a sin in me to let thee 
 thus depart. Only tliink ! Thou art so young 
 to be thrown into the turmoil of this bcAvilder- 
 ing world ! If thou sliouldst meet with any 
 mishap, or if, througli thy very innocence and 
 want of experience, thou sliouldst be led into 
 sin, or tempted into evil ways ! My heart is 
 ready to break at the very thought ! " 
 
 " Is tliat thy fear ? 0, dearest father, banish 
 it far from thee. Dost thou know me no bet- 
 t3r ? Hast thou not thyself taught me to liate 
 evil from the bottom of my heart, and to keep 
 God ever before my eyes and in my soul ? 
 Hear me, father ! By that God who has arched 
 the blue of his glorious lieavens above our 
 heads, by that Saviour to whom I have this 
 day vowed eternal fidelity, I promise thee to 
 keep my heart and my hand from all unriglit- 
 eousness. Thy Gustavus will always so con- 
 duct himself that thou wilt never have reason 
 to be ashamed of him ! " 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 29 
 
 Th3 boy had risen to his feet. Such joyful 
 aESiiraiico, such depth and truth cf holy rcecln- 
 tion shone in his countenance, tiiat the father 
 could no longer resist. 
 
 A man's will is his most sacred posses- 
 sion ! " said he. " I know not what, in spite 
 of my better reason, impels me to yield to tliy 
 foolish desire. Thou maycst then depart. It 
 is not impossible that the voice of thy heart 
 may be tlic voice of God calling thee for thine 
 own good." 
 
 " Thou consentest ! Thou consentest ! Oh ! 
 now all Avill be well ! " joyfully cried Gustavus. 
 He tln^ew himself into his father's arms, and 
 fairly overwhelmed him with kisses and ca- 
 resses. Eraun finally withdrew himself from 
 tlie boy's passionate demonstrations of grati- 
 tude. 
 
 ^' Come, come, my son ! said he, we 
 must give tliis matter further consideration. 
 
 e must also ask counsel of thy mother. And 
 now, sit down and listen to me. If thou art 
 about to bave ns, it is doubly necessary that I 
 should relate to tliee precisely how, in the 
 wonderful ways of Providence, thou cliancedst 
 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 THE YOUNG FAINTER. 
 
 to bccoino niy son. Ilitlicrto, all that tliou 
 liast known is, tlint I found tliC3, an i:ifant, 
 upon the battlo-ricld of Loipsic." 
 
 This recall to tho melancholy and mysteri- 
 ous circumstances overshadowing his early life 
 at once banished every trac^ of the joyous ani- 
 mation beaming from tho boy's countenance. 
 A new and solemn interest took its place as lio 
 silently seated himself by his father's dde. 
 Eraun thus began his narration : — 
 
 " The List battle of Leipsic was a warmly 
 contested day. The armies waved to and fro, 
 like two seas driven one against t!io otlier by 
 opposing winds. The French fought with the 
 energy of despair, and every foot of ground Ave 
 won was covered with tho corpses of our fallen 
 enemies. But we strove with God, for our 
 king and country, and our foes. were finally 
 forced to give way. It was still early in the 
 afternoon when the French began to fall back 
 upon the Rliinc. Those regiments whicli 
 had lost the fewest men Avero oi-dercd to con- 
 tinue t!ie pursuit. We pressed vigorously on- 
 ward, continually harassing tho flying enemy, 
 until their ranks fell hito the Avildcst disorder. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 31 
 
 " Great God ! what horriblo siglits met our 
 eyes! The roads, far and iicarj to the riglit 
 and the left, were strewn with dead and dying 
 men, with dead horses, and abandoned or di;:;- 
 abiod cannons and baggage-wagons. It was 
 a rcene of such liorrible and heart-rending con- 
 fusion, that to this day my flesh creeps whenever 
 I think of it. All, Gustaviis, man is fearful 
 when he meets his brother man npon a batllo- 
 field, where a human life weighs no more tlian 
 a featlier in tlie scale ! The events of that one 
 day at Leipsic cost half a world millions of 
 tears. But little did we think of tliat ; cur 
 every nerve was strained to do all possible 
 injury to our enemies, and not to allow them a 
 moment's repose. 
 
 ^' It was toward evening wlicn we reached a 
 place where the struggle had been long and 
 desperate, but where the French had at length 
 been overcome. The desolation was fearful. 
 Our way led over heaps of slain, and fragments 
 of every kind of militaiy appurtenance. A 
 disabled coach lying in the road especially at- 
 tracted our attention, ^ly comrades hoped to 
 find a valuable booty, and quickly surrounded 
 
THE YOUNG TAIXTER, 
 
 and Eackod tlio carriago; I ctoocl at a llttb d-is- 
 tancc. Suddenly I heard a laugli, and- a loud 
 cry of a child ! a child!' I sprang forward. 
 In Tict, an infant lay docping in a tiny bod on 
 the hack seat of the carriage. That was indeed a 
 strange sight! Only think ; amid tliosc bloody 
 and murderous scenes, surrounded by rude 
 and bearded warriors, lay tlic child, beautiful 
 as an angel, and peacefully sleeping as if repos- 
 ing in the "arms of God ! Truly, it was neither 
 tire time nor the place to busy one's self witli 
 children, but that sight touched every fibre in 
 my heart. Brothers ! cried I, that is my share 
 of the booty ! I took the child in my arms. 
 It awoke, and opening its two clear, dark eyes, 
 turned them full upon my face. God, thought 
 I, has surely watched over the life of this little 
 one ; it would be a real child murder were I to 
 leave it this cold, autumnal night amid the 
 horrors of the battle-lield. AVe marched on. 
 I fastened the infant as well as I could upon 
 my left shoulder, and either the child's guar- 
 dian angel, or the influence of its own angelic 
 loveliness and innocence, must have softened 
 the wild heartb of my comrades, for they made 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 83 
 
 r>.o attempt to impede my progress, and re- 
 frained from tlio utterance of a single rude 
 jest." 
 
 Gustavus, Y,'ho Lad thus far listened i:i 
 silence, could no longer control his emotion, 
 and burst into tears. 
 
 ''I do not -svonder that thou Y.^ccpest, mj 
 con," said Braun. That child was no other 
 tlian tliyself. God only knot's how thou 
 chancedst to be in so fearful a place. I have 
 always supposed that where so young a child 
 was found, the mother, or at least the nurse, 
 could not be far distant. But wc saw no 
 traces of any feminine presence. That is but 
 one of the many mysteries buried beneath the 
 bloody soil of that Hital battle-ground, and not 
 until the last trump shall sound, can wc hope 
 for their revelation. — -As night came on, wo 
 reached a larg3 village, where wc rested during 
 a couple of liours, for we were dreadfully ex- 
 hausted. My fu-st care was to seek some safe 
 place of refuge for tliee, as it was impossible 
 for me to carry thee any farther. But this 
 was no earr^y matter. Nearly all the inhab- 
 itants of the plac9 had fl^d } Jn yaii^ dicl ^'o 
 
Si 
 
 TII12 YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 knock Jit 1^13 do^rs, and when vro forced Iheni 
 open ve Ibuii.l only Lilonce and desolation 
 vritliin. I fmall/ succeeded in luring from Ids 
 l:iding-place a young peasant, vrliose dwelling 
 by upon llio outskirts of the town. 
 
 " ' Ilcy, friend ! ' cried I to liim, ' tlie battle 
 13 won, and tlie enemy driven away, God \vill- 
 ing, never to return. Thank God for your 
 deliverance ; and that you may sliow your 
 gratitude by deeds as Avell as by words, I will 
 i.itru^t you v^ntli t:ie care of a child I found 
 upon the battle-field.' 
 
 " The peasant stood a moment irresolute. 
 ' Come, come, tliere is no time for delay ! ' 
 cried 1, in a I'ougli voice. ' I cannot take the 
 clilld v.'itli me, an.d I will mo^t certainly not 
 have it upon tlie cold ground to perish. Are 
 you married ? ' ' Yes.' ' h^o much the l)et- 
 ter I Have you any children ? ' ^ One.' ^ Then 
 you can easily take charge of a second I ' At 
 that moment a peasant woman, who had prob- 
 ably heard the whole conversation, crept fortli 
 from her place of co!iceahnent. 
 
 'There, my good woman,' said I, ' take the 
 child, and be a mother to it.' . 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 35 
 
 " Tlio woman took tlico in her arms, and 
 w!icn sho saw liow forlorn and forsakL'n tliou 
 wert, a fjcling of luimaiiity aroso in licrljrcatt, 
 for dio said : ' Poor littb croaturo ! Well, yes 
 then, I Avill, will be a motlier to it ! ' ' God in 
 heaven reward you ! * cried I, as happy as a 
 king. ' I must now go. "When tlic war is 
 ended, should I Ltill be among tlie 1^'ing, I 
 will certainly return and see what has become 
 of the little fellow.' 
 
 " Well, thou Avert then at leact in safety, 
 and I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted 
 from my heart. At t!ie end of the two hours 
 W3 again moved on. The rest of the tale thou 
 already knowcst. Wc droA'e tlie French over 
 tlie Rhine, iuA^aded their country, and, after 
 many a hard fig'it, entered their very capital, — 
 Paris. Peace was then declared, and Ave re- 
 turned tD our native land. Thou maycst be 
 sure thou hadst not been forgotten. My way 
 home led through Saxony, and of course 1 did 
 not shun taking a little longer route, that I 
 might again see thee. 
 
 " When I entered the cot where I had left 
 tlicc, I saw a little boy playing in the sand. 
 
SG TIIZ TOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 II3 lia:I a:i aniiabb counto:ianc3, a ;j^ki:i - liko 
 r.lics a:id roses, and a profiisio:i of fair, curling 
 locks. IIo was, liowcvor, A'cry dirty, and cvi- 
 dontlj iicgloctod. The peasant woman at that 
 moment made her appearance. 
 
 ^' 'Well ! ' cried I, as I gave her a friendly 
 greeting, ' is that the boy I left yritli you last 
 year ? ' ' Yes, i^ir, that is he.' I took thee up 
 in my arms, and pressed a hearty kiss upon 
 thy lips. I was glad to see thee so strong and 
 healthy. Cut what was 1 to do now ? Should 
 1 take thee Avith me, cr leave thee with those 
 wlio had tluis far taken care of thee ? Before 
 deciding, I determined to discover how thou 
 wert treated in the house, and especially 
 whether tlie people loved thee. For this pur- 
 l)Osc, 1 remained with them during the whole 
 day. But the household did not please me. 
 They v/cre uncommonly rough people, and I 
 could soe they cared but little for thee. Thoy 
 did not even attempt to hide that they would be 
 very glad to bo relieved of further trouble on 
 thy account. 
 
 " My resolution was soon taken. I then had 
 plenty of money. We were returning as viC" 
 
TIIS TOUXG PAIXTER. 
 
 o7 
 
 tors, and i.i a foroig'-i land, without extortion 
 or. dislionost/, Ind liid many op;rjrtu:iiLioH of 
 iiicroasing our littlo stores. I took tJ03 Aviih 
 m?, and engaging our passago in tli3 poh;t-coac:h 
 from t!io neighboring village, coon reached my 
 home. Until I married, my mother took 
 charge of thee, and all the rect thou knovr- 
 cst." 
 
 YNHien Braun had finished his narration, 
 GustaA^us throA7 himself sobbing upon liis 
 bosom. 
 
 " All, father ! " cried he, ho^v good thou 
 hast been to me ! What was 1 to the3, that 
 thou shouldst snatch me from destruction, and 
 bestow so much love upon me ? My daily 
 prayer will ever be, that I may repay thee for 
 all thou hast done for me." 
 
 " I did not do it for reward, my son. My 
 only wish is that thou mayest be an honest and 
 upright man. Then indeed Avill my joy be 
 full at the thought of having saved thee. But 
 I have yet one thing more to say. As I was 
 that evening bearing thee from the field of 
 battle, I observed a small gold chain hanging 
 about thy neck. I drew it forth, and found 
 
 4 
 
83 
 
 TIIS TOUXG TAIXTEn. 
 
 attachod to it a tiny gold locket. Here it is. 
 Pross tliis spring, and tliou wilt soo £omot:iing 
 that will surprise tliee." 
 
 Gustavus took tlic locket and pressed tlio 
 spring. It flaw open, and his eye fell iipo:i 
 the portrait of a young and very lovely wo- 
 man . 
 
 '•It is by no means impossible," said Eraun, 
 '•' tliat that may be a portrait of thy mother." 
 
 '' My mother ! my mother ! " sobbed tlie 
 boy, as he fjrvently pressed t!io picture to his 
 lips. 
 
 "It is tliine only inheritance f.^om thy par- 
 ents. Take it with tliee. I do not dare to 
 hope that it may aid thee in finding thy rela- 
 tives, for I fancy they are more probably 
 French than German. But the locket and 
 chain are of considerable value, and diouldtit 
 thou at any time fall into great need, tliou 
 miglitest perhaps purchase tiiy life by dispoi:ing 
 of them." 
 
 Gustavus made no reply. He was sunk in 
 profound meditation and reverie. An entirely 
 new world seemed to have arisen in his i. mer- 
 inos t being. His eyes were fastcuei upon the 
 
THE TOUXG TAIXTER. SD 
 
 portrait, intciitl}' j:tiidyir.g tlio cxprcsMon of 
 tliat iiiilJ and boautirul cou:ito:ia::co, wl.ic'i, 
 with some Ltraugo power, sconieJ tj bo inter- 
 penetrating liis very soul. 
 
 My mother ! " whispered lie from time to 
 time, as great tears rolled dowly over liis 
 flushed cliceks. 
 
 Wlien his f.itlicr finally called him, he rose 
 and silently fellowcd the good man c:i Lis 
 homeward v/ay. 
 
C II AFTER III. 
 
 DEPAnTURi: rr.or.i iio:.ir,, and joup.xey to 
 i:ki£slau 
 
 B?tAUN was tormcntod during t!i3 "wliolo of 
 tli3 succoodhig iiigiit witli tho thoiiglit that his 
 adopted son was aboiit to bavo him, and von- 
 turo alone amid t!i3 tortuous paths of an un- 
 known Avorld. lie ahnost ropontod liaving 
 yielded his consent, and his imagination painted 
 in the darkest colors the manifold dangers to 
 wliich the boy's innocence and inexperience 
 would be exposed. Early the next morning 
 h2 went to tlic pastor of t!ie place, a pious and 
 experienced man, and laid before him the 
 whole of his doul)ts and difficulties. The cler- 
 gyman reassured him, saying : — 
 
 " Your Gustavus is a very extraordinary 
 boy, and Ave may hence anticipate for him no 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTEH, 
 
 41 
 
 common clostiny. Yv hat would prove tlio ruin 
 of a boy endowed with meaner capacities and a 
 weaker c-iaracter may perhaps be for him the 
 means of superior elevation and finer culture, 
 lie was born Avith a strong natural tendency 
 toward goodness and virtue ; he has been care- 
 fully instructed in the LiNvofGod; and hence 
 I tliink we liave little or nothing to apprehend 
 from his intercourse with the world. lie will 
 be the less easily tempted, because evil of every 
 kind is repulsive to his very nature. In addi- 
 tion to this, he is really gifted with an extraor- 
 dinary talent for painting. I never met with 
 a boy in whom a noble instinct liad so decidedly 
 pointed the v^-'ay to his future profession. AH 
 his ideas, and everything he touches, invohm- 
 tarily mould tliemselves into plastic or picto- 
 rial forms. Your son, in fact, could riOt well 
 be anything but a painter. In our village lie 
 will have no opportunity of acquiring the req- 
 uisite knowledge: he musl go to the city, ar.d 
 the sooner the better, for art is long, and life 
 io short. Y^e will then permit liim to depart. 
 I do not doubt his success, and that he will in 
 the end become a very remarkable man. Re- 
 
 4 
 
42 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTEn. 
 
 mombor that t'n rarest and most precious 
 j-3wols ahvays require the sharpest iiistruineiit?, 
 and the most assiduous labor, to give them llie 
 polish of which they are susceptible. The 
 greatest and noblest men are almost invariably 
 tliose who have been severely tried in t!ie 
 ccliool of adversity. Let us trust in God, t!iat 
 li3 will not permit our Gustavus to be tempted 
 beyond his strength." 
 
 Braun departed v/ith a lightened heart. Guc- 
 tavus had meanwliile retreated tj the little 
 corner in his father's house Aviiere he kept 
 his scanty stock of treasures, consisting of a 
 pencil, a few paints, some bits of white paper, 
 and a portfolio, wiiicli he had himself made 
 and. carefully ornamented. This pretty effort 
 of the boy's invention contained liis little store 
 of fixtures, a portion of whicli he had pur- 
 chased witli his scanty savings from itinerant 
 picture-dealers, Avhile the remainder had from 
 thne to time been given him by various persons 
 who had been struck v/itli his aptitude and 
 fjndness for tlie noble arts of colorino* and 
 design. Here, also, were some of his own at- 
 tempts, neatly executed on vrhite paper, and 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 43 
 
 cclorcd \AVa all the tasto possibb, considering 
 tlio moagro contents of his paint-box. 
 
 Ilitliorto liis portrolio had been his most 
 doarlj prized earthly possession, hut he iiov*^ 
 regarded tlie locket containing tlio lovely por- 
 trait as a treasure far more precious than any 
 he had previously called his own. That he 
 miglit never be parted from it, he fastened tlie 
 chain round his neck, and placed the locket on 
 his breast, beneath his clothes. 
 
 But he was also determined not to part with 
 his portfolio, and hence was very busy in ar- 
 ra:iging its contents, and laying aside all that 
 seemed to him unworthy of preservation. 
 Many pictures were promptly decided upon, 
 while others caused him mucli tnouglit and 
 many regrets. All were in fact beloved confi- 
 dants, reminding him of some happy hour, 
 wlien he had felt inspired to create some dur- 
 able memorial of his fleeting impressions. 
 
 ye rich ! Had ye seen tlie boy thus occu- 
 pied, lowly stooping over his treasures scattered 
 upon the bare floor, with his happy face, and 
 his heart fairly bubbling over with joyous 
 hopes, — tlie poor boy, who could call nothin;^ 
 
44 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 liis own, savo a vigorous frame and a riclily 
 gifted soul, — liad ye seen how he associated 
 a happy and glorious future with tlicse few 
 childish efforts, ye would surely have opened 
 your coffers, and thence liave procured for hiin 
 an entrance to the noble kingdom of Art, and 
 the mea]is of attaining the proud height to 
 whicli nature had destined him ! 
 
 AVho could be liappier tlian Gustaviis, when 
 on his father's return lie learned that the pas- 
 tor had not only approved of liis design, but 
 liad succeeded in allaying all the good forest- 
 er's doubts and fears. The cottagers were 
 soon busily engaged in making the necessary 
 preparations for tlie boy's journey. To tlie 
 lionor of the mother, we must say, that she had 
 great difficulty in reconciling herself to tliis 
 sudden and unexpected change in tlie arrange- 
 ment of her little household. She made many 
 objections, and almost tearfully besought Gus- 
 tavus to remain yet a little longer under the 
 parental roof, and not so young to venture out 
 into a fearful and unknown world. She prom- 
 ised him every motherly care and attention, 
 and when she found tliat licr rcprcsciitatiqns 
 
TIIS YOUXG TAINTEK. 
 
 4.5 
 
 liad no effect i:i changing lior liusband'c or 
 Gustaviis's resolution, dio did her best to fnipply 
 her adopted con v/it!i all he could need for his 
 journey. She carefully mended and arranged 
 his under-garments, adding tliereto from t!ie 
 clotli woven for her own little ones. Gustavus 
 was deeply touclied, and all the bitterncLS 
 wliich the memory of former ill treatment 
 occasionally woke in his soul vanished in the 
 gush of grateful tears which the siglit of his 
 adopted mother's kindness drew from his eyes. 
 
 Time sped, and tlie hour of departure came 
 at list ! All was in readiness ; a passi)ort had 
 been obtained from th6 proper aufnorities, and 
 the parting visits had all been made. At t!ie 
 first break of dawn, Braun and Gustavus left 
 the cottage. The heart of tlie latter was full, 
 almost to bursting. lie must now leave behind 
 liim all the scenes of his childhood, not indeed 
 strewed with roses, yet enlivened by mar.y a 
 happy hour. Every step recalled to his mem- 
 ory the various scenes and events of his inno- 
 cent childhood. It wos no vro:ider that his 
 eyes were fdled with tears, a:id tliat not a word 
 was sijokcu.as tho father and son ascended tho 
 
4G 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTrPt. 
 
 IrJl dividing the r.ccliidod valby fi'oin llio bvol 
 country 0:1 the opposite side. Tliey reached 
 t!ie summit just as tlie su:i Avay rising. 
 
 V/o must part licre, mj son," said Braun. 
 Looh, how brightly and clearly t!ie sun 13 
 rising ! May the morning of tliy n2\Y life 
 promise as fair a day ! 1 can no longer v.-atch 
 over the3, and can only accompa:iy tliee vrith 
 my prayers and good 'wishes. Eut I give tliee 
 into the hands of one who is a tender and Ijv- 
 i:ig Fatlier to all the children of cartli. 'My 
 son, keep God ever before tliino eyes and in 
 thy heart, and beware of evil. Sullcr no sinful 
 thouglit, word, or deed to stain the purity of 
 t!:y Svoul. Mayest tliou find all t!iou scekest ! 
 Dut sliould th3 v.^orLl fail thee, remember tliat 
 thou still hast a father, and a father's liouse. 
 And now, farewell ! God and his angels be 
 ever with thee ! " 
 
 Gustavus wept aloud, and throwing his arms 
 round liis father's neck, exclaimed : " Fatlier, 
 dear father ! Thanks, a thousand thanks I " 
 
 His utterance Avas stifled by the A'iolence of 
 liis emotion, and he could say no more. Lraun 
 gently disengaged liimsclf from Hk) boy's cm- 
 
Tin: YOUNG TA INTER. 
 
 47 
 
 brace. ITc, tvoo, vras dooply moved, cii;d, turn- 
 ing away, Avalkcd lliouglitfullj liomcivard. 
 
 Giistavus Avas thus at lengtli alono. Bcliiiid 
 liira lay the narrow valley, Avith its tender 
 memories of liis childish days, while before 
 liim a vast and unknown v/orld stretched far 
 away toward tlie distant horizon. The feeling* 
 of his loneliness, and the consciousness tliat 
 there was now no or.c to Avhom he could turn 
 for aid and counsel, painfully oppressed liim. 
 He fell upon his knees, and gave vent to his 
 emotions in silent but fervent prayer. 
 
 Eut, most fortunately, he v/as not of a char- 
 acter long or weakly to yield to melancholy 
 thoughts. His youtli, courage, and cheerful 
 disposition coon gained tlic victory over liis 
 depression. His long-clicrishod wish Avas final- 
 ly fulfilled, and he know tliat, if ho Avould 
 Avin the substance of the sweet dreams and 
 aspirations Avhich had so mysteriously stirred 
 Avithin his soul, he must tread steadily onAvard, 
 and reach the far blue distance noAV glcamir.g 
 in the brilliant mornhig light. He stretched 
 fortli his arms as if in greeting toAvard tlie 
 plahi, tightened t!ie cord that bound his Lttb 
 
43 
 
 THE YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 bundb, and trod CAviftlj and firmly over tlic 
 pathway tliat was to bad him to his uiikiiovrn 
 destiny. 
 
 It was a lovely spring morning. Far above 
 him floated the tlioiisand-voiced chorus of t!ie 
 larks, tlie finches twittered in tlie groves, and 
 tlie firit ^tarks proudly etalked across the 
 grasey meadows. The country people were on 
 every Lide occupied in furrowing t]ie land, and 
 soAving the golden seeds of the future harvest. 
 Evorywliere appeared the signs cf an active 
 and joyous life, of a thorougli renovation of all 
 the powers of nature. 
 
 All this filled our 3'oung fi'ien.d's heart with 
 unspeakable delight. Vv itli an eye ever open 
 to beauty of every kind, nature kept no se- 
 crets from him. Every flower told its own 
 tale, and every waving tree softly whispered its 
 gentle story in his listening ear. It is the pre- 
 rogative of tlio pure in heart, of tliose ^y]\^ 
 hearken to the voice of God within their souls, 
 to ever find in nature a dear and confidential 
 friend, a .never-failing source of the purest and 
 most rapturous deliglit. All disquiet and every 
 sorrow must be soothed by t!io holy peace and 
 
TIIS YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 49 
 
 liarmoiiious lifo whicli flow witli tlio brcatli of 
 God tlirougli all the veins of creation. That 
 ■\vo £0 seldom And this consolation, this exalted 
 repose, must bo the result of some fault in our- 
 selves ; our insatiable desires, our glowing 
 passions, our sins, step in between us and be- 
 ncriccnt nature, so that wo see only her out- 
 ward form, only the rudo materials, while tlio 
 living, breathing spirit of God, sustaining and 
 glorifying tlio wliob creation, escapes our view 
 and eludes our comprcliension. 
 
 Gustavus was besides a born artist, that is 
 to say, he saw tlie v/Iiolo creation in its mani- 
 fold relations to the beautiful, and, as the pas- 
 tor had said, everything, for him, at once 
 became a picture. His fancy was continually 
 occupied in grouping together the lovely forms 
 presented by external nature, or arising from 
 within, — t]ic growtli of his own imagination. 
 Yio cannot, then, wonder that he felt neither 
 the bngth of the way nor the dreariness of sol- 
 itude. His steps were winged, and his counte- 
 nance beamed witli liappy smiles. Who, among 
 the occupants of tliO comfortable vehicles from 
 time to time rolling past, would have thought 
 
 5 
 
50 
 
 THE YOUNG TAINTKR. 
 
 that t^iat clicorfiil, smiling lad, without money, 
 . Avitliout friends, without prospects of any kind, 
 impelled solely by the mysterious promptings 
 of his own heart, was just entering a A'ast and 
 .unknown world, v/ith the intention of conse- 
 crating his life to an art of which he as yet 
 knew but little more tlian tlie name, and of 
 whose deptlis and dilncultics he had not 
 fahitcst conception. 
 
c n A F T E R I y . 
 
 GUSTAyU3 SEEKS A KASTEK, AND EAXCIES 1113 
 SEARCH SUCCESSEUL. 
 
 On tlio third day after Ills dopartiiro, Giista- 
 Tus reached the capital. The buoyant liopes 
 Avhicli had sustained him during hiis journey 
 tlu'ough the open country, Avith the free, blue 
 vault of heaven overliead, began to desert liini 
 as lie approached the place where the myo tic 
 scroll of his future destiny was to be unrolled. 
 On every side beautiful dwellings, surrounded 
 by neat and tasteful gardens, met his view ; 
 but to one accustomed to the freedom of the 
 hills, to the vast forms of the mountains, and 
 the shady recesses of the woods and vales, all 
 looked so narrow and confined ! The turmoil 
 gradually increased, and the boy's heart beat 
 quicker and faster, until lio finally found him- 
 
52 
 
 THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 eclf ill Vaq midst cf tho bustle and confusion 
 cliaractcrizing tho more IVcquontod parts of 
 3nost largo cities. Hundreds of pedestrians 
 came streaming toward him, and liundrods 
 more bore him onward with the living current. 
 Carriage after carriage rolled rapidly past, 
 Avhile innumerable carts and ioadcd v.agons 
 tlninderod heavily over the stonus. His cars 
 v.'ore deafened hj tho ceaseless and bewildering 
 clatter. As he advanced, tho streets became 
 narrower, the houses higher, and the tlu'ong 
 more dense. At every moment £,omcthing 
 new, Ltrange, a:id wonderful claimed his atten- 
 tion. He was especially astonished vritli the 
 ])rofusio:i cf objects hitherto unknown to him 
 displayed in the windows of the splendid 
 stores. 
 
 Vv^ithout exactly knowing how, he finally 
 reached the market-place, in the very centre of 
 th.e city, where trade was most bustling and 
 active, and the display of wealth most dazzling. 
 
 There he stood, — poor (xustavus ! 
 
 A fjeling of utter loneliness and helplessness 
 stole oven- him. T!ie busy citizens hastened- 
 past, all occupied Avith their own affairs, talk- 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 53 
 
 ing and laxigliiiig togctlicr, or absorbed i:i tlic 
 consideration of some weighty speculation, and 
 not one had a word or even a glance of sympa- 
 thy to bestow upon the friendless boy. 
 
 Whither should he turn ? How should ho 
 begin ? For the first time did he tremble at 
 tlie thought of having ventured alone and Avith- 
 out a guide into the whirl and tumult of the 
 outer world. A course which, afar off in the 
 primitive simplicity of a rural district, had 
 seemed to him perfectly easy and natural, now 
 assumed the aspect of a gigantic undertaking, 
 beyond the remotest bounds of possibility. 
 Where was he to look for a master to instriico 
 him in the art of painting ? And when found, 
 how could lie hope that an entire stranger 
 vrould take any interest in an luiknown boy ? 
 In vain did ho endeavor to ask a single ques- 
 tion of any member of the motley throng hasten- 
 ing past : the vrords died upon his lips. Op- 
 pressed by the weight of these new thouglits 
 and impressions, exhausted in body and mind, 
 h2 sank upon tlie steps of the court-liouse. 
 His heart was sorely troubled. He thouglit of 
 liis home, of the green hills, of the peaceful 
 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 TirZ YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 cottage i:i tlio "wood, of liir, good fj-tlicr, and cf 
 liis dear llttb brotliors and sisters ! lie Ijiiged 
 fur wings to fl/ away and see tlieni all once 
 more. Those inelanclioly tliouglits and dear 
 remembrances finally overcame liim, and he 
 burst into an agony of tears. 
 
 lie sat tlras, until the increasing darkness 
 warned him of tlie necessity of seeking some 
 slicltor for t!ie uiglit. He at once compre- 
 licndcd that t!ie stately mansions fjr travellers, 
 vrhicli he had passed on his way to tlic market- 
 place, were no abodes for him ; and, retracing 
 his steps, lie finally stopped at an inn in one 
 of t!ie suburbs, purporting to offer rest and 
 food to wagoners and country ])eople. Here, 
 after partaking of a scanty meal, lie flung 
 himself upon a straw-bed, and soon, in a long 
 and heavy sleep, forgot all his cares and sor- 
 rows. 
 
 The following morning, he awoke witli a 
 lighter heart and renewed courage. IJis j)Osi- 
 tion seemed to him less ho'pcless. lie had as 
 yet made no effort to attain his end ; how, tlien, 
 could he already feel like despairing ? lie 
 went very early i:ita t!ie city, and tlie pure rays 
 
TIIZ YOUXG rAINTL:r« 
 
 55 
 
 of t'i3 moriiiiig run lliro'vV quito a ncvr liglit 
 u;)o:i its hmy streets and lofty cdificos. His 
 Ijvj cf beauty was at o:ic3 captivated by tlio 
 -palatial dwellings adorning even the suburbs. 
 
 F.'o:n t!i3 lofty towers resounded the deep- 
 toned bells, calling the faitlifiil to prayer. Tlio 
 cliurc-ios are in every land the only buildings 
 vrliich liospitably open their doors to all witli- 
 out exception, to the rich and the poor, to the 
 hapi)y and the miserable. Gustavus Loon 
 fjuiid himself within a lofty church, and a nev^ 
 Y.'oild of v^'onders vras hero presented to his 
 aj:tonibhed senses. 
 
 How boldly rose the majestic arch roofiiig 
 the main ai^le, how gracefully towered t/.e 
 two rows of miglity colunnis, and liow tho 
 altar in the far perspective glittered with its 
 gilded carvings, its paintings, and its etatues ; 
 how gloriously broke tho liglit of morning 
 tlu'ougli the narrow but lofty {.taincd-ghits 
 windows I Of such paintings as covered tlio 
 walls and adorned tho altar Gustavus had 
 never even dreamed. What noble forms 1 
 What expression in tho countenances ! Vriiat 
 gloriouu coloring I 
 
5G 
 
 Intoxicatod vrith doliglit, Gustavus lias- 
 t3:icd from o:\o to anotlior, and finally ccatod 
 himself baforo ono Avhicli had cxcitod his espe- 
 cial admiration. It was a Christ in tlic gar- 
 den of Geth.semane. The divine form seemed 
 quivering 'ncatli tlie anguish of the mome:it, 
 and tlie prayer, " Father, if it be thy Avill, 
 remove this cup from me," rcemed struggling 
 on the lips. High overhead the heavens vrere 
 opened, and an angel, bearing in his right hand 
 the inevitable cross, seemed about descending. 
 Tlie light streaming from above fell full iipon 
 the Saviour, whib tlie remainder of tlie pie-- 
 ture Avas enveloped in darkness. Bclo^7 lay 
 th3 sleeping figures of the three disciples, — the 
 mild John, the fiery Peter, and the wise and 
 earnest James. The profound quiet and repose 
 characterizing the attitudes of the sleepers pre- 
 sented a most striking contrast to the agony of 
 spirit, tlie holy suffering, expressed in every 
 lineament of their Master's countenance. 
 
 Gustavus was spell-bound, and thought he 
 could never weary of gazing on that picture ; 
 and when at length the full tones of the organ 
 anuouuccd the commcnccmeut of tlic sorvicCj 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTElt. 
 
 57 
 
 tiio boy's licad sank in prayer ; past, present, 
 and future seemed to pass away from liis mind ; 
 he felt only joy and devotion ; all his douljts 
 and uncertainties had vanished, and when he 
 arose, he felt strengthened for the combat of 
 life, and interpenetrated with fervent gratitude 
 to the great Creator, who had not only permit- 
 ted him to enjoy his works in the realm of na- 
 ture, but had now revealed to him the lofty 
 things that were to bo accomplished by genius 
 and a pure inspiration in the realm of art. 
 
 The service was over ; the throng dispersed ; 
 Gustavus alone remained in the church ; nor 
 did he think of departing until the sacristan 
 aroused him from his reverie by reminding him 
 of the necessity of closing the doors. The boy 
 hastened out into the street. Consoled and 
 strengthened by the short commune with trut'i, 
 beauty, and divine love which had been vouch- 
 safed him in the temple, he felt his hopes re- 
 vive, and he determined at once to pursue the 
 object of his search. During the course of that 
 day he learned the names and addresses of 
 three painters, but all his efforts seemed to 
 brmg him no iicarci' to his goal. Tb.c. first was 
 
£8 
 
 THE YOUNG TAlNTrn. 
 
 not nt liorao, l.io second refused to ceo liini, 
 and t'i3 tliird, after listening 1o liis little Inc- 
 torj, doclined rendering hiin any assistance, 
 and, Avith a chrug of tlie shoulders, bade l:::n 
 depart. 
 
 Even this experience, liowever, conld not 
 iitterlj' destroy the boy's confidence. He 
 thought, If I do not succeed to-day, I may, 
 perhaps, to-mori'ow. Ihit that liappy morrov/" 
 seemed in no haste to dawn upon our hero ; 
 fj;ir days had already elapsed since his first 
 crrival in the city, the little fund Avith whhcli 
 liis father had supplied him was nearly cx- 
 liausted, and yet he was no nearer to the fnl- 
 fdme:it of liis hopes than Avhen he had first 
 entered tlie capital. 
 
 Vain plans and fruitless efforts occupied tlie 
 weary hours. Gustavus became very anxious, 
 and at lengtli almost despaired. The church 
 was the only j^lace Avhere he found consolation 
 and repose. 
 
 One day, when most dispirited and down- 
 (learted, he seated himself upon a bench by the 
 vrayside. His little portfolio lay at his feet. 
 [Ivoiv this traasuro no longer afforded him anjt 
 
I 
 
 Tin: YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 50 
 
 j^loasurc. During tlic fow clays just past lio 
 liad seen so inucli tliat vras grand and beauti- 
 ful, that his o^vn attempts appeared to him ut- 
 terly "wortldcss. He had begun to entertain 
 serious doubts of liis own ability and vocation. 
 
 His attention, liowever, being suddenly at- 
 tracted by a group of trees which struck him 
 as unusually beautiful and picturesque, lie 
 drew forth a sheet of paper and commenced a 
 sketch. While thus occupied, a stranger camo 
 and seated himself upon a neighboring bencli, 
 whence he watched the progress of tlie boy's 
 work. After a few moments of silent observa- 
 tion, lie addressed Gustavus, saying, — 
 
 " You arc making a charming picture. Will 
 you let me see it ? " 
 
 Gustavus placed the drawing in the stran- 
 ger's liaiid. 
 
 " Indeed," continued tlic latter, " lliis sliows 
 considerable skill. You probably belong to 
 one of our city schools ! " 
 
 " no ! I do not live liero.'^ 
 
 " Well ! you must at least have studied in a 
 good schooL You depict nature to tlic very 
 life. From whom have you learned ? " 
 
CO 
 
 TnE YOUNG PAIXTER. 
 
 " From myself. I never had a master." 
 
 " That 13 really astoiiisliing. Wheiice come 
 you, and who are your parents ? " 
 
 Gustavus replied briefly but candidly, with- 
 out, however, mentioning the cause of liis jour- 
 ney to the city, or his present gloomy pros- 
 pects. 
 
 " But Vvdiat do you intend to do in th.is 
 city ? " asked tlie stranger. 
 
 I intend to be a painter. Cf course I 
 could not pursue my studies in th.e village, 
 and with my fatlier's permission I came ta 
 Breslau in search of a master." 
 
 Have you the necessary means ? " 
 Ah no ! " said Gustavus with a blush ; 1 
 have only a few pennies." 
 
 But you have letters of introduction ? " 
 " No, indeed ! I have not a single acquaint- 
 ance in Breslau." 
 
 " And how, then, do you expect to attain 
 your purpose of learning the art of painting? " 
 
 1 hoped to find some master wdiom my en- 
 treaties might move to take me as his pupil." 
 
 The stranger laughed, but soon assuming a 
 serious aspect, continued, — 
 
THE YOUNG TAIXTER, 
 
 CI 
 
 Isly young friend, you aro cvidciilly very 
 ignorant of tho ways of the world, ncitlici* 
 doos your father seem to bo mucli more cxpo- 
 rioncod ; otherwise you Avould botli have seen 
 tlie impracticability of your present course." 
 
 Eut wliat can I do, now that I have taken 
 this ^tcp ? " cried Gustavus, his eyes filling 
 vritli tears. 
 
 The stranger made no reply, but, as if lort 
 in thought, turned over the leaves of the little 
 portfolio Avhich Gustavus had willingly sub- 
 mitted to his inspection. One most deeply 
 versed in tho knowledge of mankind would 
 liavc been puzzled in divining the purposes 
 and intentions concealed by the stranger's cold 
 and impassive countenance. Ho suddenly in- 
 terrupted liis apparently profound meditation 
 by saying, — 
 
 " Can you write ? I mean, do you write a 
 good^hand ? " 
 
 1 tlnnk so. My master considered mo his 
 best rcholar." 
 
 ^' \\\\\ yon give mo a specimen ? " 
 
 Gustavus wrote a few lines in a clear and 
 beautiful hand. 
 
C2 
 
 THE YOUNG TAIXTKR. 
 
 " Tliat is, indeed, very "svell done. It nmj 
 prove iiscful." 
 
 The stranger again seemed absorbed i;i 
 Ihoiiglit. Gustavus, meanwhile, had time to 
 observe him more closely, lie was a vrell- 
 dresscd, middle-aged man. His face was ])ab 
 and deeply wrinkled, his eyes brilliant, but 
 overshadowed by heavy brows. Had Gusta- 
 vus been more conversant with t!ic various 
 types of humanity, he would have mistrusted 
 tliat face and eye. Of course no sucli idea 
 presented itself to his mind, and he was only 
 too happy to be thus sympatliizingly noticed by 
 a strano'er. 
 
 After a somewhat lengthy pause, the un- 
 known again resumed, — 
 
 "I am sorry for you, my young friend; 
 your simplicity and inexperience have placed 
 you in a very awkward position. But take 
 courage ; fate may yet be propitious. A liappy 
 accident has thrown in your way all tliat you 
 Lought in vain. I am a painter ! " 
 
 You a painter ? " cried Gustavus, joyfully 
 springing to his feet and seizing the stranger's 
 hand. 
 
I 
 
 THE YOUNG rAlNTER. 
 
 C3 
 
 Yes, I am a painter, and one by no means 
 unknown to fame. 3Iy pictures adorn all our 
 exhibitions. Did you never bear of tlie cele- 
 brated Feldberg ? 
 
 Gustavus bluslied as lie confessed bis igno- 
 rance. " All ! I forgot you were from tbo 
 country. Of course you never beard of me 
 there. I feel deeply interested in your fate. 
 You are endowed with unmistakable talent!" 
 
 The boy's frame quivered witli the excess 
 of delight which these words occasioned in 
 his soul. 
 
 " I will take you as my pupil," continued 
 the stranger ; " that is, if you are willing." 
 
 "If I am willing!" cried Gustavus, ca^:t- 
 ing a grateful glance toward heaven. 
 
 " You may then begin with me ; there is 
 a place open for you. You are poor; I aek 
 no pay, and you will eat at my own table." 
 
 " thou almighty God ! " cried Gustavus, 
 "how have 1 deserved this blessing?" 
 
 The boy's delight Avas so boundless and in- 
 expressible, that he could scarcely refrain from 
 flinging liimself at the stranger's feet. 
 
 " Come, cliild, moderate your rapture. Now 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 If 3'ou aro to bo my pupil without inj cxict- 
 ing from you tlio slightest compoiisatioii, you 
 will readily comprehend that I have a right 
 to make a few conditions." 
 
 " I will joyfully do all you can ask of mo ! " 
 
 " The first condition is, that you punctually 
 and unhesitatingly accomplish all that 1 set 
 before you to do. Will you promise mo ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, most willingly ! " 
 The second is, that you ask no questions 
 concerning any task I may require you to ex- 
 cute. Will you also agree to that?" 
 
 " I will," replied Gustavus. 
 
 " Well, then, the third and last is, that you 
 must be very industrious ! You will liave 
 but little time at your own disposal, and hence 
 it will be best for you to leave the house as 
 seldom as possible. If you think 3^ou will not 
 find the confincmont irksome, our bargain is 
 concluded." 
 
 Gustavus found no fault with this condition, 
 and readily acquiesced. 
 
 " Give me your hand then," said the stran- 
 ger. Now wo mutually understand each 
 other." 
 
THE TOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 Cj 
 
 nad Gustavus boon loss absorbed in llic cx- 
 t^oss of his own delight, ho might pcrliaps havo 
 observed the cunning and mysterious smile 
 which flitted athwart the stranger's hard fea- 
 tures as the boy coniidingly placed his little 
 hand in t:ic offered clasp. 
 
 Now, my lad, wo will go for your clothes, 
 and then you will accompany mc home." 
 
 They wont. The boy's face was radiant 
 with joy, and his step lighter than it liad been 
 far many a weary day. Poor lad ! He little 
 thought he had contracted an engagement 
 threatening the most fearful consequences. 
 Let us not Avonder at his simplicity, for cf 
 evil he barely knew more than tlic name, 
 and he had hitherto met with no bad men. 
 lie had never heard of those specious evil- 
 doers who lurk in the by-ways of great cities, 
 pursuing all kinds of infamous avocations, and 
 ever ready to ensnare the young and inexperi- 
 enced. His noble and affectionate heart lay 
 trustingly open to his fellow-mortals, and how 
 could he suspect the first man who had offered 
 him consolation in his almost hopeless condi- 
 tion, by speaking words of sympathy, s^iii by. 
 
CG THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 moreover, offering to aid liim i:i the fal.11me:it 
 of his dearest wishes ? IIo liad no t!ioui:-ht 
 boyoiid his present happiness. Tho " cele- 
 brated " painter seemed to liim a messengofs 
 from heaven, sent especially to deliver him 
 from all his troubles. Even the strana:3 co:i- 
 ditions imposed upon him by his new friend 
 excit3d no suspicion. They seemed to him 
 so perfectly natural, so precisely what a master 
 had a right to demand from his pupil, that 
 he accepted them without a moment's hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 Gustavus followed his new master throuo^h 
 numberless streets and alleys, until they fnially 
 reached a distant quarter of the city, and 
 stopped before a tall, narrow house, with a 
 ])eaked roof, and walls blackened by time. 
 Although it was still early in the day, the 
 liousc-door was already locked, and not until 
 after repeated ringing and knocking was it 
 finally opened by a hideous old woman in a 
 dirty gown. Tlie dame cast an astonished 
 glance at the boy. 
 
 This is my pupil ! " said Feldberg. " IIo 
 is to live with us. I hope you will like each 
 other.'* 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 C7 
 
 5o saying, ho led Gustaviis up tlircc fliglits 
 of narrow stairs, and, opening a door at the 
 licad oC the last flight, entered a large but 
 sombre looking apartment. 
 
 " Soli I Now we are at home, you must 
 make jourself quite comfortable, my lad ! " 
 
 lix accordance with this invitation, Gustavus 
 laid his bundle in a corner, and silently seated 
 himself, while his master walked up and down 
 tlie room. The boy gazed round his new 
 abode. On the walls hung a few insignificant 
 pictures ; while here and there Avere scattered 
 some of the utensils employed in painting. 
 Disorder reigned paramount, and not a trace 
 was to be seen of the artistic grace which 
 Gusta^'us had fancied must be found in the 
 studj^ of a great painter. His delight was 
 somewhat diminished, and his heart began to 
 bo troubled with sundry doubts and misgiv- 
 ings. 
 
 The evening passed, however, without any 
 fiirtlier cause for anxiety. The scanty re- 
 mains of the evening meal were set before 
 the boy, and as he was very hungry, he de- 
 voured the unsavory viands with considerable 
 appetite. 
 
tJ.^ THE YOUNG PAINTEPw. 
 
 Aft3r suppor, Foldberg showed Gustavus to 
 a:i attic-room, wlicra a miserable pallet had 
 been prepared for him. When alone, he made 
 a close examination of his apartment, and his 
 comfort "was certainly not increased hy the 
 discovery that the door of the chamber was 
 locked on the outside. 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 TI.2IPTATI0X AND DAXGEH. 
 
 And Tv'io, tlicn, Tvas this Yiv. Fcldbcrg ? Ho 
 was in fact a painter; at bast, li3 tlius Ltjlcd 
 himself, and was tlius considered among his 
 neiglibors. But, either througli indolence or 
 Avant of success, he had not actually practised 
 his art for many years, and had devoted him- 
 self to pursuits more in accordance witli the 
 restlessness of his temperament, and proffering 
 more ample remuneration. Wc cannot spe- 
 cify his occupations, as tliey were numerous, of 
 divers characters, and most carefully hidden 
 from the public vie^v. Generally speaking, ho 
 was a kind of universal agent, such as we fnid 
 in most large cities ; that is, he was ready to 
 engage in any business promising profit, great 
 or small. He negotiated sales, lent money at 
 high rates, and proffered assistance to all who 
 
70 
 
 THE YOUNG rATNTEIi. 
 
 had fallcii into embarrassment of any kinfl,— 
 liis aid, however, usually causing the total ruin 
 of those who were unfortunate enough to 
 seek it. 
 
 We cannot say he was governed by any very 
 lofty conceptions of duty or of the claims of 
 conscience. His ruling principle seemed to 
 be, All is allowable that fills the purse. lie 
 could wring the last penny, — ay, the very 
 heart's blood from the miserable creatures wlio 
 had fallen into his power. Were we to call 
 liim a thief and a swindler, we should bo 
 guilty of no slander ; but he was so skilful in 
 concealing his misdeeds, or in maskhig them 
 with an appearance of legality, that, although' 
 he had on several occasions been cited to a]> 
 pear before the public tribunals, he had always 
 escaped condemnation. 
 
 But our readers may ask, Why had this 
 I)lausible scoundrel thus entrapped our friend 
 Gustavus? Of course he had not acted with- 
 out a sufficient motive, and his customary cun- 
 ning and duplicity had guided his decision in 
 tliis case, as in all others in which his interests 
 were concerned. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTEK. 
 
 71 
 
 ITis speculations froqucnlly required cloro 
 imitations of various handwritings, for lie Avas 
 £0 accustomed to fahc dealing of every ki:id, 
 that ho did not hesitate a mome:it at counter- 
 fjiting a name, or even au entire document. 
 His own ready and practised hand liad liitli> 
 crto heen all sufficient for the execution of hir> 
 projects ; but that guilty member had recently 
 become unsteady, and he coidd no longer rely 
 upon its tremulous aid. Accident threw Gus- 
 tavus in his w^ay, and he at once recognized in 
 tlio friendless boy the tool he needed. Tlie 
 lad's skill in drawing and writing, especially if 
 developed and perfected to this especial end, 
 W'Ould entirely satisfy all his requisitions. He 
 ako rejoiced in the boy's simplicity and utter 
 want of experience. Nothing seemed more 
 easy than gradually to enclose him in so intri- 
 cate a net tliat escape w^ould be impossible, 
 and if he could bo induced to commit one ac- 
 tual misdeed, the w'ary schemer knew tliat his 
 empire vv'ould be for ever secured. He fully 
 relied upon the truth of a saying propounded 
 by one of our most .celebrated authors: Give 
 the devil a single hair, and you are his for all 
 eternity ! '* 
 
72 THE YOUNG PAINTER. V 
 
 Foldborg's plans cxtonclod a long way into] 
 Va2 futiiro, and covered a wido field of action. 
 II J liad once counterfeited certain bank-bills, 
 and liad attempted to circulate the false paper 
 through the city. The fraud, however, wa3 
 discovered, and suspicion had fallen upon him; 
 but he lied so stoutly, and it was found so im- 
 possible to prove anything against him, that ho 
 was released without having received the duo 
 reward of his misdeeds. Since then he liad 
 not dared to renew tliat branch of his nefarious 
 transactio:is. But Gustavus's extraordinary 
 ability now seemed to aiford him the means of 
 returning to his old tricks with a surer pros- 
 pact of success, and he could almost feel witliin 
 his covetous grasp the treasures thence flowing 
 into liis coffers. 
 
 Gustavus had then fallen into the most dan- 
 gerous hands, and yet the poor boy suspected 
 nothing. He slept in his garret, on his hard 
 bed, and his peaceful slumbers were sweetened 
 by the loveliest and mo^t alluring dreams. 
 Glorious paintings, the work of his own hands, 
 stood round him ; a noble and beautiful lady — 
 the same whose portrait he possessed in the 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 73 
 
 locket — floated toward him from romo nn- 
 hnown rogion of liglit and bliss, and fondlj 
 jn'oiscd him to lior heart. But when tlie 
 morning came and ho awoko, these lovely 
 visions vanished, and nothing remained to him 
 but four bare walls. 
 
 His first thought, however, was one of grati- 
 tude that ho had been so providentially led to 
 CO secure a shelter. ITo promised himself to 
 boar with cheerfulness every privation, if lie 
 could only in the end attain the accomplish- 
 ment of his dearest wishes. 
 
 Ilis master brought him his breakfast, and 
 when the simple meal was over, snid, " NoWy 
 my lad, wo must go to work ! As a learner, 
 you must for the present expect nothing but 
 cchool exercises. In the art of painting you 
 will require the greatest nicety of touch and 
 execution. Hence you must learn to copy 
 neatly. Hero are two sheets, on one of Avhicli 
 is traced a variety of strange figures. The- 
 Ihies cross each other in every direction, and 
 seem without meaning or purpose ; but you will 
 find this a most useful exercise, as you must 
 copy the figures so exactly that no one could 
 7 
 
74; 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 1]i3 copy from the original. On the other 
 sliojt yon will find an extract from a manii- 
 rcrij)t writton in no very elegant hand, but 1 
 asHuro you it will prove useful, as in copying it 
 l)rocisely you will attain greater exactitude. 
 Not a single stroke or dot must be omitted, 
 and you mu^t especially apply yourself to the 
 mastering of the general character of the hand- 
 writing. And now I hope you w^ill be diligent 
 and attentive, tliat when I return at noon I 
 may have I'cason to rejoice in your progress." 
 
 Fcldberg left the room, locking the door be- 
 hind him. Gustavus immediately sat down to 
 his task, which did not strike him as in any 
 way peculiar. lie knew that without exacti- 
 tude it would be impossible to succeed in por- 
 traying a house or a tree, to say nothing of the 
 delicate lines of a human countenance. He 
 d3t;3rmined to ])rogress as rapidly as practica- 
 bb in these elementary studies, that he might 
 tlie sooner attain to the more attractive por- 
 tions of his chosen art. 
 
 The boy's nimble fingers soon completed the 
 first portion of his task to his own entire satis- 
 faction, and he hoped, to that of his master. 
 
Tin<: YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 75 
 
 At noon, tlio latter came, praised some part?, 
 blamed otlicrs, and incited his pupil to itill 
 closer exactitude. 
 
 ; Day after day passed in i\iQ same manner. 
 Nothing was proposed but the endless copying 
 of utterly senseless figures, gradually becoming 
 more and more complicated, or the imitating cf 
 an infinite variety of handwritings. Our Gu^ta- 
 VU3 was finally seized witli an insurmountablo 
 re])ugnance to this soulless, yet moet wearisome 
 labor. There vras, liowever, no way of freeing 
 himself from the thraldom of his master, wlio 
 continued to require the daily practice cf simi- 
 lar exercise:] until the boy should have attained 
 the requisite exactitude. 
 
 Gustavus had on one occasion ventured to 
 beg for some new species of task, but a threat- 
 ening glance from the master's eye, and a 
 hasty oat!i from his lips, soon silenced the mod- 
 est petition. Since that hour, Gustavus had 
 begun to fear Feldbcrg. Ho trembled when 
 he heard liis step upon the stairway, and 
 always felt uneasy in his presence. The boy's 
 pure soul began to divine tlio vicinity of an un- 
 holy and wiclicd spirit. As yet, however, Gus- 
 
7G TUE YOUXG TAINTER. 
 
 tavus liad no very cbar impressions with 
 regard to his actual i)osition, and was too weak 
 to contend vritli liis master. Inwardly sigh- 
 ing, yet endeavoring to do his best, lie was 
 continually forced to renew his hated labor. 
 
 This, however, Avas not liis only source of 
 suffering. He Avas a child of the mountains, 
 lie had always been accustomed to the fresh 
 air and freedom of the country ; his days had 
 been ])assed amid breezy hills, smiling vales, 
 and luxuriant forests, and now he was confined 
 between four bare walls, and constantly forced 
 to breathe the same close and unwholesome 
 atmosphere. What a melancholy change ! 
 
 His master did not allow him a single mo- 
 ment of freedom. For many days he had not 
 seen the blue of heaven except through the 
 dingy panes of the parlor windows, or through 
 the tiny opening in liis garret room. He 
 began to suffer from an irrepressible feeling of 
 liome-sickncss. AVlicn, in the early morning, 
 or the evening twilight, he looked forth from 
 liis lofty station into the far distance, his long- 
 ing was unutterable. He envied the swallows 
 fluttering and twittering iii the free, pure air 
 
THE rOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 77 
 
 around liis lonely prison ; and tlio lot cf a 
 cliimncy-swccp, whom ho heard s;ingi]:g from 
 the top of a ncighborhig cliimncy, seemed to 
 him inexpressibly delightful. Far away, be- 
 yond th3 most distant roofs, he saw the vrav- 
 ing tree-tops, and the blue outline of a distant 
 mountain cliain. He longed for the wings of 
 the doves, that lie might lly far, far away ! 
 
 0, if he could only once more rci t in tlic 
 cool shade of the forest, only once more breatlie 
 the fresh air of tlie mountains ! No felicity 
 seemed to him comparable to the fulfilment of 
 this desire. And tlien, too, he thought of all 
 his dear ones at home. He fancied himself 
 seated at his father's feet, fondly gazir.g upon 
 his smiling and friendly countenar.ee, or sur- 
 rounded by the lively band of his young brotli- 
 crs and sisters, or again playing in the meadow 
 by the brook, with his school companions. 
 
 Poor boy ! II3 felt he could not long en- 
 dure the pain of separation from all that had 
 made life dear to him. He strove in vain to 
 love a master who treated him alternately with 
 a soi't of repulsive kindliness, and tiie mo^t 
 tcrriiying harshness. The truth that ho had 
 
78 THE YOtNG TAINTER. 
 
 boc:i taken into tlic house from no benevolent 
 motive, but for some selfish, perliaps wicked, 
 purpose, gradually began to dawn upon his 
 mind. Tlie old housekeeper, also, liad never a 
 kind word to bestow on liim, being always very 
 cross, and watching him oven more closely than 
 his master. 
 
 Yet, even in this melancholy situation, Gug- 
 tavus had two sources of consolation : his trust 
 in God, and the dear image in the locket. 
 Through an instinctive caution he had con- 
 cealed tliis treasure from his master, and liad 
 refrained from mentioning the mystery en- 
 shrouding his birth. Only when alone would 
 he take the picture from his bosom and gaze 
 long and earnestly into the beautiful counte- 
 nance. He felt quite sure that it was indeed 
 his mother's portrait. All his words were now 
 addressed to her ; she held a place in all his 
 thoughts and feelings. The longer he gazed 
 upon the picture, the more life-like it became 
 to him : the gentle eyes seemed actually filled 
 with love, and the lips almost ready to speak 
 words of consolation and encouragement, — to 
 whisper of happy days yet to come. The dear 
 
THE YOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 79 
 
 imago liaiiiitod his droams ; under many as- 
 pects and amid a variety of circumstances, bui 
 always mild and loving, it hovered round him; 
 now walking with him through some charming 
 landscape, now supporting his weary head upon 
 its bosom, and again, rejoicing with him over 
 some beautiful picture in which ho had £uc- 
 coeded to his heart's content. When he awoke, 
 the memory of these dreams filled his soul with 
 mingled pain and rapture. 
 
 Thus passed several weeks. The boy's po- 
 sition became more and more unendurable, for 
 the A'ague suspicion he had begun to entertain 
 with regard to Feldberg increased to a painful 
 degree. His uneasiness was by no means di- 
 minished by the conversation we arc about to 
 relate. One evening, Feldberg came home in 
 an excellent humor ; he had probably been suc- 
 cessful in some rascally enterprise. Callhig 
 tlie boy to his side, lie said, — 
 
 " Gustavus, my lad, I am very well satisfied 
 with you. During the past few days you have 
 performed your tasks so well that 1 must soon 
 declare you quite perfect. Your copies are so 
 excellent, that even my experienced eye can 
 scarcely distinguisli them from the originals." 
 
80 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 " If that 1)3 iiidoocl so,'* said Gustavus, tim 
 idly, may I not hop3 that you will now gl\ 
 m2 soino othor kind of exorcises ? " 
 
 " What kind of exercises do you want ? " 
 
 ^' Hoads, landscapes, flowers, — what you 
 Willi " 
 
 " Do you then really wish to be a paints:' ? " 
 
 Gustavus opened his cyjs, but ventured no 
 reply to t:iis question. 
 
 " yes, I know you hive a fancy that way. 
 You tliink you have boon gifted witli a mar- 
 vellous talent for painting. But what if I were 
 to tell you tliat you have no talent at all ? " 
 
 " That would indeed be horrible ! " stani- 
 mored Gustavus. 
 
 No, not the faintest, I am quite cure. You 
 have no fancy, no invention. You can never 
 be more than a mere copyist." 
 
 The boy's eyes filled with toars. 
 Come, don't cry, my lad I I will trust you 
 witli a secret. Your extraordinary skill in 
 copying is wortli a great deal more to you than 
 the loftiest talent with which you could have 
 been endowed." 
 
 Gustavus gazed speechless into his master's 
 face. 
 
THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 81 
 
 Do you not know that many a Trriting is 
 wortli moro tlun a tliousand dollars ; and v. lio 
 no\v-a-days will pay a tliousand dollars for a 
 picture ? 
 
 " How can that bo possible ? " replied Gus- 
 tarus, blushing deeply. 
 
 It is true, you little simpleton, although 
 you cannot as yet comprehend it. But you 
 will learn in time. If you arc industrious, 
 obedient, and secret, I will one day teach you 
 how to become a very rich man." 
 
 Giistavus sprang to his feet, and cried, — 
 0, my good master, I do not care to learn 
 that ! I had hoped you would teach me paint- 
 ing ; but as you say I have no talent, I suppose 
 I never could become an artist, and conse- 
 quently am of no use hero. Let me go away, 
 1 beseech you ! " 
 
 " You fool ! " said Fcldbcrg ; " that is quite 
 impossible. Do you think that I have taught 
 and fed you during four weeks all for noth- 
 ing?" 
 
 The boy fell at the man's feet and embraced 
 his knees. 
 
 " Let mo go, I beseech you, for God's sake 1 
 
82 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 I am good for notliing, — nothing at all ! 
 All ! iiideod I must leave tliis place ! " 
 
 " Silence ! " thundered Feldberg ; 3'ou will 
 Etaj lierc, — you must stay here! Do you 
 licar?" 
 
 Those words were rpoken in so fearful a tone, 
 a:id accompanied by so fierce a glance, tliat 
 Gustavus shrank back in terror. Almost me- 
 charncally did he obey the command to betake 
 himself to his own chamber. 
 
 V/hen alone, he found his mind in a terribb 
 ctate of confusion. Strange tliouglits and feel- 
 i'ligs llitted athwart liis brain, but he strove in 
 vain to reduce them to order. By degrees ho 
 boeame calmer. Although utterly inexperi- 
 enced in tiie Avays of t!ie worLl, lie possessed a 
 clear intellect, and an uprigh.t judgment. Tlio 
 preceding conversation had thrown a fjarful 
 ligh.t upon his present situation. No, though.t 
 lie, this man is no painter! But wliat is he? 
 Yf hy has he lured me hitlier ? Vf hai does lie 
 warit with mo ? Wherefore tliis eternal copy- 
 i:ia: of senseless fia:ures and handwritiiifrs ? 
 
 An almost forgotten memory flashed across 
 his mind. Ills teacher had once told him that 
 
THE YOUNG FA INTER. 
 
 83 
 
 thcro wcro persons Avlio maclo a busincrs of 
 falsifying and counterfeiting notes and docu- 
 ments. Vriiat if Fcklberg Avcrc sucli a man ? 
 Horrible ! And what if be intended to em- 
 ploy him as a tool ! At this thought his blood 
 stiffened in his veins ; ho Avas stricken in Ins 
 most sensitive point ! A profound sense of 
 right, and an incorruptible feeling of honor, 
 -were among his most prominent character- 
 istics. 
 
 AVheroforo, thought he, this confinement, 
 this careful locking of my door, and this anx- 
 iety lest I should hold any communication with 
 my fellow-beings ? Is he afraid I will betray 
 him before he has made sure of me ? Where- 
 fore these secret visits, at which I am never 
 permitted to be present, — this dark and mys- 
 terious mode of life, — this anxiety to avoid all 
 observation ? Tlio more Gustavus reflected, 
 the more sure he became that he had fallen 
 into the hands of a villain. 
 
 He tiH'ew himself upon his knees and 
 prayed : my God ! save me from the snares 
 of the wicked. Let me die, if it be Thy Avill, 
 but keep my heart and my hand from evil! " 
 
THE TOUXG TAINTER. 
 
 It T^as very lato that night ^y]\c:\ ho sank 
 i:itD an uneasy deep, disturbed by fearful 
 dreams. 
 
 The following day, wlien Fcldbcrg called 
 Gustavus to leave his chamber and come down 
 to him, the wily master was apparently more 
 friendly than ever. 
 
 " My lad," said he, " you acted yesterday 
 like a little fool, and you must have seen that 
 you cannot trifle with me. 1 hope you have 
 learned a good lesson for the future. Our in- 
 terests are now closely entwined, and the bet- 
 ter friends we arc, tlic more advantageous for 
 3'ou. I liave an exercise for you with which 
 you cannot fail to be pleased. Here is a neat 
 little picture on which are stamped the Prus- 
 sian eagle and the Prussian arms, vnth sundry 
 other pretty figures. All these must be copied ; 
 but mind you, exactly, so that no one could 
 t jll the copy from the original. Do you hear ? 
 If you succeed to my satisfaction, you may 
 rely upon a large reward." 
 
 When Fcldbcrg had left the house, — for he 
 was always absent during the greater part of 
 the day, — Gustavus examined the paper which 
 
THE TOUNCr PAINTER. 
 
 85 
 
 Iiad been placed before liim. It was a Prue:- 
 sian treasury note. He remembered leaving 
 ; Eceii £:imilar papers i:i his father's liauds, but 
 I ho liad tlicii paid no regard to their meaning. 
 Now when among otlier words he found these 
 two, — " Five Dollars," — he began to suspect 
 that this note might be employed to represent 
 an equivalent in money. And b.c was expected 
 to copy that ! To what end ? While, witli a 
 j bcathig heart, he was anxiously considering 
 i tlie matter, his eyes fell upon a line cf fmo 
 writing running around the rim cf the note, 
 lie read as follows : — 
 
 " According to the law cf the land, vrhocvei^ 
 counterfeits, or causes to be counterfeited, treas- 
 j ury notes, whoever circulates said counter- 
 feits, or aids and abets their circulation, in- 
 curs the penalty of a fine equal to tenfold tlio 
 value of the counterfeited note or notes, to- 
 gether Avith severe corporeal punishment and 
 imprisonment, the term of which imprison- 
 ment may be extended to the duration of the 
 I natural life, with hard labor." 
 
 We cannot describe the horror witli which 
 Gustavus read these words. All was now pcr^ 
 8 
 
8G 
 
 TnE YOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 fDcllj clear ! And ttqs lio then to become a 
 counterfeiter, — a criminal ? To load his con- 
 ccience "witli a heavy weight of guilt, and to ren- 
 der himself liable to the severest punishments 
 of the law ? He trembled from head to foot, 
 as if lie had already committed the evil deed. 
 His firsit thought was flight ; but he found ail 
 the doors, as usual, lock 3d. 
 
 " I must escape," cried he ; ^' I must fly from 
 this den of wickedness, even if I am forced to 
 leap f.'om the windows ! " 
 
 He sank down in one corner and wept bit- 
 terly. 
 
 " Ah, my father! " dghed he, if you only 
 knew t!ie fjarful abyss which yawns before me, 
 you would fly to t-ie aid of your own Gus- 
 tavus ! " 
 
 Tlie paper, still lying on the table, inspired 
 him wit'n indescribable horror. " No, not one 
 stroke will I make ; I will have my hand cut 
 off before I use it for any wicked purpose ! " 
 lie sprang to liis feet. " Wiiat riglit lias this 
 man to plunge me into teniporal and eternal 
 ruin ? lie may beat me, he may lock me up, 
 but he shall not stain my soul. For the pre- 
 
THE YOUNG PATNTER. 
 
 £7 
 
 ccrvation cf its purity, I am accountablo both 
 to myself and to my God ! " 
 
 Thus, amid conflicting foclings, fluctuating 
 bctwoon hopeless despair and courageous res- 
 olution, Gustavus passed tlie long hours of 
 that fearful morning. At noon, Fcldbcrg re- 
 turned. 
 
 " Well, my lad," cried he, ^- have you been 
 diligent ? How much liave you done ? What 
 docs this mean ? " continued he, his eye falling 
 upon tlie blank dicet still lying vrhere he had 
 left it. " Have 3-011 done nothing ? " 
 
 " I have done nothing," replied Gustavus, in 
 a resolute, although somewhat tremulous tone. 
 
 " And why not, may I ask ? " 
 
 ^' I read upon that paper that whoever copies 
 it is a criminal and liable to severe punish- 
 ment." 
 
 Fcldbcrg laughed aloud. "Is that all? You 
 little fool ! Who says that tliis copy is to bo 
 circulated ? It is only intended as an exercise 
 for you." 
 
 " I shudder at the very idea of such exer- 
 cises." 
 
 " Then you will not copy iho paper . 
 
83 THE YOUNG PAOTER. 
 
 No, not that one." 
 Fjldborg's face assumed a fearful expression •, 
 his liaiids quivered convulsively ; lie fastened 
 Jiis eye on Gustavus, like a serpent on the poor 
 bird destined to be its next victim. The boy's 
 courage, however, rose with the actual prcsenc3 
 of danger. 
 
 ^Master," said he, " you brought mo here 
 under a promise to teach me painting, but I 
 see that if I remain with you 1 shall never be- 
 come a painter. You liad better, then, suffer 
 me to depart." 
 
 " And wliat do you tliink you will become 
 if you remain witli me ? " asked Fcldbcrg, his 
 voice trembling witli rage. 
 
 " I must say it ! " cried Gustavus. " I have 
 no earthly possession except a guiltless con- 
 science, — shall I lose that, and become a cheat 
 and a counterfeiter ? " 
 
 Tlio outburst of rage which followed thia 
 speech was indeed terrific ; Feldberg seized tho 
 l)oy, flung him to the ground, and seemed 
 about to strangle him. 
 
 But no," he suddenly cried, " wo liavo 
 other means of subduing you. OIT with you, 
 to your room I " 
 
THE TOUXG TAINTEU. 
 
 80 
 
 IIo half dragged tlio boy up t!i3 steep ctairs, 
 and pushing him into his room, locked the doer 
 on the outside. 
 
 The day passed, and no dinner came. I3 it 
 hunger that is to subdue me ? thought Gusta- 
 Tus. A cold shudder ran through all liis 
 veins. 
 
 lie felt he must escape. The idea of fligh.t 
 ^;ecame more and more fixed in his mind. His 
 life, and more, his eternal salvation, "were at 
 ctake. But how ? — He looked fortli from his 
 little window ; a giddy depth lay below, and 
 the neighboring roofs were too distant to afford 
 him any aid. 
 
 The only possible mode of escape "was by tlie 
 stairway, but then the door :vas locked. Long 
 and vainly did he ponder ; no Avay of forcing it 
 open presented itself to his mind, until sudden- 
 ly his eye clianccd to fall upon a large nail, 
 only partially driven ijito the Avail. His heart 
 baped Avith joy ! His efforts to Avithdraw it 
 proved successful. IIoav if ho Avcre to bend 
 t!ic point and use its as a key ? The lock 
 seemed a A'cry simple one, — or perhaps he 
 might use it as a pry to force back the bolt. 
 
 8* 
 
00 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTEn. 
 
 ITo made an attempt, tho bolt l)ogan to move, 
 and li3 now folt quite sure that lie could open 
 tlie door. But lie must wait until after night- 
 fall, for tiie housekeeper, who was always to be 
 fjund in tlie kitchen, watched the steps with 
 argus eyes. And when fairly down stairs, 
 how was he to get through the hall door ? IIo 
 determined to hide in the lower story until the 
 morning, when the door would be opened, and 
 then dip out. After much deliberation, Gus- 
 tavus finally decided upon adopting this plan. 
 
 The evening passed, and no supper. I am 
 right, he intends to ruin me ! thought Gusta- 
 vns. Tlie c.Tort must be made, and midniglit 
 seemed to him tlie best time for beginning his 
 operations. 
 
 Our 3'oung readers may imagine how endless 
 the intermediate hours of anxious delay seemed 
 to the poor boy. 
 
CITAPTER YI. 
 
 FLIGHT AND DELIVERANCE. 
 
 The bells from the towers annomiccd tbo 
 liuur of midiiiglit. Now is the time, thought 
 Gustavus. lie packed liis little wallet, tied 
 up liis portfolio, and then recommended him- 
 self to the protection of his Heavenly Father. 
 This done, he went to the door and listened ; 
 all was silent as tlie grave. He softly inserted 
 tlio nail into the open crack, — his forehead 
 was covered with a cold sweat, — the bolt p,"avc 
 way, and the door was unfastened. Unspeak- 
 abb was tlie delight thrilling every member of 
 liis youthful frame. 
 
 He crossed the threshold and carefully rc- 
 bolted t;ie door. Scarcely daring to breathe, 
 ho fjlt his Avay on tip-too down stairs. Tlio 
 most })rofound jjilencc and impenetrable dark- 
 
92 
 
 THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 ncFS pervaded tlio lionso. The beating of l:is 
 ovs'ii lieart vras Hie only round lie heard. IT3 
 s:to;)ped a moment on t!ie landing oiit'.id3 of 
 Feldherg's door ; from the back room Avhere 
 tlio housekeeper ilcpt proceeded a tcrribb 
 cnoring, Avhich made him feel quite secure ns 
 far as she was concerned. lie then descended 
 the two remainuig flights at a somewhat more 
 rapid pace. 
 
 Scarcely had lie reached the ground floor, 
 vrhen he was startled by a sudden noise. A 
 key Avas placed from without in the lock of th3 
 liouse-door. Gustavus shivered, and barely 
 retained presence of mhid sufficient to hi do 
 behind some barrels under the stairway. Hor- 
 ror stricken, he recognized his master's voice. 
 Fcldborg entered, accompanied by another 
 man ; but the boy's delight may be imagined 
 when he heard that dreaded voice say, " 1 will 
 leave the door unlocked, as you will not have 
 long to stay ; our business will soon be fin- 
 ished." Gustavus waited until the last echo 
 of tlie retreating footsteps had died away, 
 "when, emerging from his hiding-iilace, he 
 flung open the heavy door and rushed out into 
 the street. 
 
THE YOUNG rAIXTER. 
 
 93 
 
 No liuman po:i could doscribo his foclhigs. 
 No sliipwrccked mariner, whom tho mercy cf 
 God liad ju^t snatched from all the liorrors cf 
 a Avatcry grave, could feel more grateful or 
 enraptured tlian did our Gustavus, when lio 
 liad fairly left his tormentor's den behind him. 
 IIo seemed like one intoxicated with delight. 
 The street lamps shed but a glimmering light, 
 but the stars of heaven shone above his head ; 
 and he enjoyed to the full extent the privilege 
 cf choosing his own way and directing Ids own 
 footsteps. lie felt as if just awakened from 
 co'uc long and fearful dream, as if suddenly 
 restored from some shadowy land of phantoms 
 to the living and breathing realities of life. 
 He walked for hours without a thoudit of 
 fatigue, and finally reached the outskirts of tho 
 city, where t!ie fresh country air blowing upou 
 his face rendered liim doubly happy. The vast 
 city sleeping at his feet failed to excite a single 
 emotion of apprehension ; ho was scarcely 
 aware of its existence. lie felt himself alone 
 with liis God, and his soul poured itself forth 
 i:i the m.ost fervent and joyful tlianksgiving. 
 
 The intensity of his delight, however, began 
 
94 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 to abato, ^\'hcn, with tlio dawn, came a shivering 
 fjoling of cold and a gnawing sensation of hmi- 
 gor, for it had been nearly four-and-twentj 
 hours since the poor boy had tasted a moiith- 
 fnl. These physical requirements recalled hirn 
 to a sense of his desolate and friendless con- 
 dition. Human life began to stir abroad. 
 The country people commenced driving their 
 well-laden carts and wagons into the populous 
 town, and Gustavus soon found himself sur- 
 rounded by all the bustle of the approaching 
 market hour. With a penny or so still remain- 
 ing from his littlo store, he satisfied his hunger 
 at a baker's, and then began to consider what 
 he liad better do next. 
 
 His first thought was to return to his father. 
 "But no," said he to himself; "I asked my 
 father for a year's trial, and it would be cow- 
 ardly to abandon all my hopes and projects 
 before six weeks had fairly passed." 
 
 II is self-esteem and self-reliance, together 
 with an unconquerable love for his chosen art, 
 • — a love which not even the misery of his last 
 experience could extinguish, — revived. Ah! 
 thought he, if I oidy knew some one who could 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 95 
 
 adviso 1113, and show mo some way of relieving 
 myself from my present state of doubt and em- 
 barrassment ! 
 
 Ilis thoughts suddenly fell upon the kind 
 pastor of the village church. lie felt that, 
 could he only see him, he would receive botli 
 counsel and substantial aid. This idea at once 
 gave rise to another. 
 
 " How?" he cried, are there not plenty of 
 clergymen in this great city, and would any 
 one of them repulse me after learning all my 
 troubles and misfortunes ? xVre they not all 
 servants of Him who called the burdened and 
 heavy-laden to himself? How could tliey fail 
 to pity a poor lad who asks nothing from them 
 but a little consolation, and. some good counsel 
 to guide his steps amid the labyrinth of life." 
 
 Encouraged by this consideration, he went 
 toward one of the large churches, and was 
 delighted at finding a house near by, the door- 
 plate of which announced the residence of a 
 clergyman. He rang, was admitted, and. soon 
 stood before a venerable man Avho in the kind- 
 est maimer asked him what he wanted. Gus- 
 tavus, at first somewhat timidly, but gradually 
 
i)6 
 
 THE TOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 gaining confidcnco as I13 procoodcd, related liis 
 '.vliob story ; who he was and whence lie came, 
 wliat luid brought him to the capital, and all 
 tliat had happened to liim since his arrival. 
 
 The pastor listened attentively. He was 
 pleased witli tlie truthful expression of the 
 boy's handsome countenance, a!id felt fully 
 inclined to believe a tale so unreservedly, yet 
 modestly related. Ho placed confidence in the 
 poor boy, whose helpless and forlorn condition 
 could not fail to excite a good man's compas- 
 sion. 
 
 " My son," said he, 3^our simplicity and in- 
 experience have led you into a most dangerous 
 situation. Thank God, wlio has preserved 
 you ! You ask me what you liad better do 
 now. Of that we will speak hereafter. But 
 we have first a most necessary work to accom- 
 plish. From all you have told me, this paint- 
 er, Feldborg, must be a great villain, and 
 wlio can tell how many of his evil deeds may 
 still be larking 'neath the veil of secrecy? It 
 is now our duty to inform the city authorities 
 of all we know." 
 
 Gustavus started ! lie had not thought of 
 
THE TOUXG rAIXTEK* 
 
 97 
 
 thlr.. Tlio icloa of standing bcforo tlio magis- 
 tracy, "whom ho had always fancied surrounded 
 by the most awe-inspiring attributes of power 
 and majesty, made liim tremble from head to 
 fjot. 
 
 Do not fear, my dear boy," said the pastor ; 
 
 if you are innocent, you have no reason to bo 
 afraid. The magistracy does not indeed bear 
 the sword in vain, but is only to bo feared by 
 the guilty. Who knows if God may not have 
 Ciioscn you as the instrument of delivering the 
 community from one of its most dangerous 
 members ? " 
 
 The clergyman went with Gustavus to one 
 of the chiefs of the police whom he knew very 
 well. Tlie mention of Feldbcrg's name, at the 
 commencement of his narration, at onco 
 roused the attention of the police officer, wdio 
 exclaimed, — 
 
 " Feldberg ? The painter Feldberg ? That 
 indeed interests mo ! We have long suspected 
 that man, and have only been waiting for some 
 certain proof to punish him as he deserves. 
 Pray, continue ! " 
 
 The clergyman related all that lie had liQarcl 
 
 9 
 
98 
 
 THE YOUNG FAINTER. 
 
 from Gustavus. The officer tlien asked tlie 
 boy many questions, Avhicli lie answered without' 
 hesitation, and apparently to the satisfaction of 
 the official, who at the close of the examina- 
 tion said, — 
 
 " I thank you, reverend sir, that you have 
 not shunned interfering in this unpleasant 
 affair. You have rendered an invaluable ser- 
 vice to all whom this villain's schemes might 
 have plunged into ruin. The boy's deposition 
 is quite sufficiejit to justify an immediate 
 arrest. I must also detain the boy. 1 hope 
 indeed that he is innocent ; but until that is 
 proved beyond a doubt, I cannot permit him to 
 depart; the more, as it is necessary he should 
 a[)poar as a witness against the accused." 
 
 Gustavus was thunder-stricken. Again in 
 captivity ! His face was pale as death, and all 
 his limbs trembled. 
 
 " Mercy ! pity ! " cried he, wringing his 
 hands. " I am innocent ! xVs true as there 
 is a God in heaven, I have done nothing 
 vrrong ! " 
 
 The clergyman, who sincerely sympathized 
 with the boy's distress, said a few kind words 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 99 
 
 ill liis behalf; ])ut lio was soon convinced that 
 tlie ofiicer couhl not for tlie present spare him. 
 Both then strove witli gentle Avords to reassure 
 the trembling child, and succeeded so well that 
 Gustavus with tolerable composure followed 
 the policeman (who had meanwhile been 
 called) into a very comfortable and by no 
 means terrifying place of detention. 
 
 We will now return to the gloomy liouso 
 from which Gustavus had so happily escaped. 
 Fcldberg, little dreaming that his prisoner stood 
 trembling within three paces of him, went up 
 stairs with his companion. A short conversa- 
 tion then ensued, which, judging from the 
 whispered tones in which it was held, certainly 
 related to some villanous transaction. Soon 
 after, the stranger departed. Feldberg then 
 locked and bolted the doors. As he again 
 ascended the staircase, he thought of listening 
 a moment at the boy's door. All was quiet. 
 The lad must sleep well, thought he. Hunger 
 has not yet done its work ! 
 
 As he found the door locked, ho calmly re- 
 turned to his own chamber. In the mornino- 
 ho listened again. Again all was quiet. This 
 
100 
 
 Tlir: YOUNG TAINTEn, 
 
 rocmod i:icoiiiproho:isil)b, and I13 cofdj oponod 
 iA2 door ; llio room was cmptv. Our .you:ig 
 readora may imngino Foldborg's rpGOchlcs;g 
 astoiiislimcnt. His first lliouglit was, that 
 Gustavus in despair liad flung liiuisolf from l!io 
 Yv'indow ; and, liardoncd as lie was, a cold chud- 
 dor ran through all his limbs. IIo vrcnt to the 
 window and looked out ; no boy was to bo 
 ceen. People were already stirring in tho 
 court below ; at least, had the boy's mangled 
 body been found upon the pavement, tlie alarm 
 Avould cro now have been given. He must 
 then have escaped througli the door, but hovr ? 
 Truly a difficult question, and one which Fcld- 
 berg had not now time to solve. Gustavus's 
 fliglit filled the false master's mind with min- 
 gled fear and rage. The lad had looked too 
 deeply into his guilty secrets, and must, if po> 
 dble, be at once recaptured. 
 
 In wild haste, he ran down stairs, threw 
 open tho house-door, and hurried through a 
 multitude of streets and squares in vain ; for 
 nowhere amid the crowd could he discover the 
 missing boy. Towards midday lie returned 
 liomc, angry and tired, and heartily cursing 
 oiir poor Gustavus. 
 
THE YOUNG rAIXTER. 
 
 101 
 
 But \il\o can cl^rcriba liis liorror vrhci l:o 
 fyund liis dwelling in l!i3 hands cf V.\2 i:ol:c3, 
 and himself under arrcLt ? Tlioy liad rcarclied 
 the premises, and taken possession of Iiis i)apcr3 
 and all other suspicious articles. He made 
 several fruitless attempts, to escape tlie nirvc'.l- 
 Lmce cf the balifrs. His liour had come, and 
 tlie strong arm cf tlie law vras fmall/ upcn 
 him. Gnashing his teetli and utterii:g lioiTi- 
 Ijb curses, he, together Avitli t!io old house- 
 keeper, vvas fjrced to follow tlie policemen, 
 who placed them both in close coufujcment. 
 
 It is not our intention hero to follow the 
 course of t!ie ensuing trial ; suffice it to say, 
 that, after the lapse of a few days, Gustavus's 
 innocence was fully proved, and ho himself 
 released from durance. But numerous com- 
 plaints from otiier quarters, supported by un- 
 exceptionable testimony, were i)refcrred agair.st 
 Feldberg, and all his cunning, aided by the 
 most unblushing falsehood and perjury, failed 
 to save him. Not only was he proved guilty 
 of fraud and extortion, but also of counterfeit- 
 ing documents and circulating counterfeit 
 money of his own manufacture. 5Ic was scii- 
 
 9* 
 
102 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 I 
 
 tonccd to imprisonment with hard labor for a 
 long term of years. Thus do tho wicked fall 
 into tlicir own snares ! A poor, ignorant boy, 
 Avlioni with hellish art he had entrapped to aid 
 him in his reckless schemes, was chosen as tlio 
 instrument through which he was to fall under 
 t\\Q strong arm of the law, and society to bo 
 finally delivered from one of the most danger- 
 ous enemies to its order and security. 
 
 During tho same day on which Gustavus 
 was liberated from captivity, the police officer 
 to whom he had been first brought sent for 
 him. The boy's honesty and true-heartedne?s 
 had quite won the officer's confidence, and ho 
 felt very desirous to see him settled in sonio 
 safe place, where he could learn some useful 
 occupation. 
 
 My son," said he, "I am glad that you 
 have got through this ugly business with so 
 safe a skin. I was really afraid that your four 
 weeks' tuition under Feldberg might have dono 
 you more harm." 
 
 " I was not afraid of that," replied Gustavus, 
 
 for I knew my own innocence." 
 
 " You are indeed innocent. Yes, more than 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 103 
 
 innocent. You aro an iipriglit and an honest 
 lad, and you have behaved very sensibly 
 throughout this whole affair. But, how if 
 you had not been able to make your escape ? 
 All then might have ended very differently." 
 
 " In that case, I should have died." 
 
 " What, you would really have had the 
 courage to die rather than commit a crime ? " 
 
 " Yes ! for I promised my father before I 
 bft him to bo guilty of no wrong. That was 
 tlio only condition under which he would suf- 
 fer mo to depart." 
 
 " Well, it is best as it is. Listen, dear lad ; 
 I have something very pleasant to tell you. I 
 know that your purse is not very full." 
 
 "Alas!" sighed Gustavus, "I have not a 
 single penny loft." 
 
 " Fortunately, I can help you. You have 
 rendered a greater service than you yourself 
 are perhaps aware of. Your information has 
 given us the clew to a number of criminal mys- 
 torios Avliich had long baffled our penetration. 
 Among the rest, the discovery of the counter- 
 feiter of our treasury notes is no slight service 
 to the state. Some time ago, a reward was 
 
104 THE YOUNG PAINTER, 
 
 promised to tli3 discoverer, and you liava 
 earned it." 
 
 So saying, the police officer took a roil of 
 money from liis pocket and offered it to Gus- 
 tavus. But the boy hesitated, drew back, and 
 blushed scarlet. 
 
 " Well, take it, my child ! Only think, it 
 contains fifty good dollars." 
 
 "Fifty dollars! And are they all indeed 
 mine ? " 
 
 Gustavus had never before even dreamed of 
 sucli wcaltli. All his blood rushed to his 
 heart. He stretched fortli his hand, but it 
 was again quickly Avithdrawn. 
 
 " Ah, sir," cried the boy, " tell me only 
 wlietlier in this affair I have done my duty, — 
 what I ought to have done ? " 
 
 " Certainly, you have done your duty, — ail 
 that you ought to have done." 
 
 "Well, then, I cannot take the money!" 
 cried Gustavus, now almost weeping. 
 
 " But, why not ? " asked the officer, greatly 
 astonished. 
 
 " Our master told us that when wo had dono 
 our duty, only what wc were bound to do, wo 
 should never take pay for it." 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTEK. 
 
 105 
 
 " TjJ lioavon ! you nr3 indeed a rtranp:o hey ! 
 Anio::g all the lads i:i our city, Lxu'ely i:ot 
 inore than one in a thousand could be found 
 i as conscientious as you are ! " 
 j Thus saying, the officer, in the l:indlicct 
 i manner, laid liis hand upon the boy's head 
 and continued: " My child, I lionor your con- 
 ccientiousncss. Mo^t certainly, one should not 
 receive payment for a mere fulhlmo:it of duty. 
 But could you not take the fifty dollars ao a 
 
 gift ? " 
 
 Gustavus's eyes brightened. 
 
 " As a gift from your king ? Tlie l:ing loves 
 to have upright people in his dominions. You 
 will not be too proud to receive a gift from 
 him? " 
 
 no ! it is allowable to receive gifts ! " 
 Gustavus took the money, and his vrliclo 
 countenance shone as with a new-found de- 
 light. 
 
 " What will you do with your money ? " 
 asked the police officer. 
 
 The boy was £:ile::t. lie was evidently 
 weighing some important purpose ; lie blii^h.od, 
 and fmally asked in low and rapid tones, 
 
106 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 \\'lictlior lio could not with his fifty dollars be' 
 como a painter ? 
 
 T!iG ofliccr lauglicd heartily. 
 
 " Still at your old notions ! Tell me, then, 
 do you really desire to become a painter ? " 
 
 " Yes, I desire it with all my heart ! " 
 This is Avondcrful ! I thought your bitter 
 experiences would have rendered your rosi> 
 dence in the city so disagreeable that you 
 woidd lose no time in returning to your coun- 
 try home." 
 
 " Tliat would indeed be very pleasant, for it 
 is much prettier at home than here. But — " 
 
 " But what ? " 
 
 " I cannot return without having accom- 
 plished anything." 
 
 " xVnd do you think that you will now be 
 able to accomplish somctlnng?" 
 
 " Now tliat I have money. I will be more 
 prudent, too, in future." 
 
 The officer smiled. lie walked up and 
 dowii the room several times, and then, turn- 
 ing to Gustavus, paid, — 
 
 " My Kon, I have an idea ! You can indeed 
 remain hero and become a painter " 
 
THE YOUNG PAIKTER. 
 
 107 
 
 " Indeed ! Truly ? " cried Gustavus. 
 
 " Yes, a house-painter." 
 
 " A house-painter ! " repeated Gustavus, hh 
 sudden delight evidently checked. 
 
 " Look round this room ! Observe the hluo 
 ■walls and the gracefully ornamented ceiling. 
 Arc they not pretty ? " 
 
 " Yes, very pretty ; but — " 
 
 " Well, don't they please you ? " 
 
 " They are not pictures ! " 
 
 " Is that it ? You have then a notion to bo 
 a painter who paints fine pictures upon can- 
 vas, — faces, landscapes, scenes^ and groups 
 from life. Come, is it not so ? " 
 
 " Yes, I would like be a painter like 
 Eaphael ! " 
 
 " Verily ! Indeed ! laughed the police • 
 officer. Your aim is certainly lofty enough ! 
 "Who put that idea into your head ? " 
 
 " No one. But I am always thinking how 
 much I should like to be an artist ; and almost 
 every night I dream I am a real painter, and 
 paint beautiful pictures." 
 
 The police officer was deeply interested in 
 the boy's welfare, and sincerely desirous of 
 
108 
 
 TUE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 serving liim. lie could no longer doubt that 
 Gustavus had a decided vocation to the profes- 
 sion of a painter, especially as in searching the 
 treasured portfolio, he had been favorably im- 
 pressed with the boy's first attempts. But ]\o 
 could see no means of overcoming the many 
 difficulties lying in the "way of attaining so 
 lofty an a;m. Hence, speaking very earnestly, 
 he addressed the lad as follows : — 
 
 " My child, what I am about to say is for 
 your own good. I will give you good advice, 
 and I think you had better follow it. As yet, 
 you cannot become an artist. You have not 
 the means, and your fifty dollars will go but a 
 very little way. You arc also still too young 
 to battle your own way through the world. 
 I seriously think you will be forced to begin 
 with house-painting. I will procure you a 
 good, honest master, with whom you cannot 
 fail to learn. If you are diligent, you must in 
 time earn something for yourself. Meanwhile, 
 you will become older and wiser. If, after tiio 
 lapse of several years, you still retain the de- 
 sire of devoting yourself to painting as an art, 
 you will be free to choose for yourself, and tlio 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 100 
 
 intermcdiato time will have been by no means 
 lost. Come, now, what do you say to that ? " 
 
 "You think, then," said Gustavus, "that 
 from a house-painter I could in time become 
 a real painter ? " 
 
 " I certainly think so." 
 
 " 0, then I consent, most joyfully ! " 
 
 Thus ended an interview which was to exer- 
 cise a weighty influence upon the future of our 
 Gustavus. The police officer kept his word ; 
 he found a good master, and a few days later 
 Gustavus began his duties as an apprentice, 
 j We need scarcely mention that Gustavus 
 ' employed his first leisure hours in writing a 
 long letter to his father, in which all his ad- 
 j ventures were duly recounted. 
 
 10 
 
CHAPTER YII. 
 
 GUSTAVUS LIVES AND LEARNS AMONG KIND 
 PEOPLE. 
 
 The family wliicli the police officer had in^ 
 duced to receive Gustavus was as respectahlo 
 as it was charming. The painter, Huber, a 
 man of forty years of age, was upright and 
 honest, full of love to God and man, and be- 
 loved by all his friends and neighbors. His 
 skill as a decorative painter was such that ho 
 Avas much prized and sought after, and conse- 
 quently in excellent circumstances. His wife 
 was not less distinguished for the kindness and 
 gentleness of her disposition, and her house- 
 hold was governed with that quiet industry and 
 tender consideration, which can so well pursue 
 the rood and the useful, without neglecting the 
 beautiful and the agreeable. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Threo children, the eldest of whom was 
 about twelve years old, completed the happi- 
 ness of this excellent couple ; for not only were 
 the little ones healthy and well grown, but 
 well brought up ; not only bright and gay, but 
 modest, obedient, and industrious. 
 
 A heartfelt spirit of love and peace united 
 these good people into so happy and delightful 
 a whole, that both God and man must liavc 
 rejoiced over the harmonious concord. 
 
 Tlie arrival of Gustavus was of course quite 
 an event for the little family. Master Huber 
 liad a large number of journeymen and appren- 
 tices, but they all lived out of the house. The 
 kind and considerate police officer had, however, 
 begged an exception to the rule in favor of 
 Gustavus. He had so heartily recommended 
 the boy, and his history was one calculated to 
 excite so much interest, that the family were 
 all in anxious expectation of his arrival. To- 
 ward evening he made his appearance ; his 
 manners were modest, but devoid of fear ; and 
 though still preserving all the simplicity of his 
 country breeding, he was neither awkward nor 
 boorish. lie was greeted with a hearty wel- 
 come, and soon felt quite at home. 
 
112 
 
 THE YOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 " Mj son," said Iliiber, " may thy commg 
 among iis blessed to iis all ! Mayest thou 
 bring peace to our roof, and mayest tliou in 
 return receive peace . and happiness from us. 
 Poor cliild ! fortune has used thee somcwliat 
 roughly, and thy young soul lias been fearfully 
 tried ! Thou must rest thyself awhile until 
 tliou feelest quite restored to thyself. And 
 now, mother, give the lad something to cat." 
 
 But the mother had already prepared cvery- 
 tliing. She kindly invited Gustavus to partake 
 of the little meal slie had arranged for him, 
 and the boy needed no pressing. The three 
 children, meanwhile, could not satiate their 
 childish curiosity, but gazed unceasingly upon 
 the stranger. They favored him Avitli sundry 
 friendly nods, and seemed delighted when he 
 held out his hand to them, playfully caressed 
 them, and finally took the baby daughter into 
 his arms. 
 
 How different was this reception from that 
 whicli had greeted liim at Feldbcrg's. He had 
 tlici'e been at once repelled by something cold, 
 strange, and fearful, and after tlie lapse of a 
 few days, had felt as if in some desolate waste, 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 113 
 
 surrounded only by all kinds of reptiles and 
 
 I creeping horrors. 
 
 Here, as wc have said, he soon felt at home. 
 
 I Every word fell soothingly upon his heart, and 
 
 I every exprei-sion bore the stamp of goodness 
 and love. The peaceful' atmosphere surround- 
 ing the Avliole household seemed to him like a 
 genial breath from his beloved home. The 
 family soon felt as if they had long known the 
 new-comer, and Gustavus reciprocated all their 
 feelings of conhdencc and affection. The good 
 always comprehend the good, and where God 
 is, there is always a heart which can find him 
 
 I without fear, doubt, or mistrust. When Gus- 
 tavus that evening said his evening prayer, 
 how fervent were his thanks for the blessed 
 haven into which he had been safely guided 
 after so stormy a voyage among the rocks and 
 shoals of human life. 
 
 The following day, Gustavus made his hrst 
 attempt in his new profession. There were, in 
 a newly built house, quite a number of rooms 
 and halls to be painted. Iluber was delighted 
 at the aptitude displayed by the boy from the 
 very beginning ; what then was his astonish- 
 10 # 
 
114: THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 mcnt, when in a short time he perceived indica- 
 tions of talent, a quickness of comprehension, 
 and a diligence far surpassing his expecta- 
 tions. The master needed only once to signify 
 his wishes, to give one example, and the order 
 was immediately executed as neatly and ele- 
 gantly as if he had long bceii acquainted with 
 all the mysteries of house-painting. 
 
 " That is a noble lad ! " said Huber ono 
 evening to his wife. " It is a real pleasure to 
 ^ee him work. He gives his master no 
 trouble ! I foresee the time when he will 
 tower above me, head and shoulders. He 
 already docs many things better than I ever 
 attempted, or cared to do them ! " 
 
 " And he is likewise a good and a pious 
 child!" added the mistress. "Always willing, 
 cheerful, and good-natured ! I do not think 
 there is a single grain of falsehood in his 
 whole composition. It makes him so happy 
 when he can lend me any assistance. And 
 how lovely he is with the children ! He plays 
 witli them as if he were himself a little child, 
 and they hang on him like so many burs ! " 
 
 We will not attempt to describe in detail the 
 
Tin-: YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 115 
 
 life led by Gustaviis in the good painter's 
 house. Its course was very uniform, divided 
 between hours of diligent hibor and intervals 
 cf repose amid the quiet family circle. The 
 favorable opinion expressed by Huber concern- 
 ing his pupil was fully justified. The master 
 was especially charmed by the boy's extraordi- 
 nary inventive powers, enabling him to trace 
 upon paper new and tasteful designs, which ho 
 afterwards transferred to walls and ceilings. 
 It is true that he frequently deviated from the 
 prevailing fashion, but every one was forced 
 to confess that such deviations were justified 
 by the grace and beauty of his designs. Occa- 
 sionally, when permitted a larger liberty, and 
 he could introduce a human face, a landscape, 
 or a few flowers into the composition, he 
 worked with all his heart, and it was wonder- 
 ful how fresh, accurate, and pleasing were the 
 results of his efforts, and with what magic they 
 seemed spontaneously to spring from beneath 
 his busy pencil. By the end of the first year, 
 the master could safely intrust him with the 
 most difiicult and artistic commissions ; and it 
 often happened that persons ordering work 
 
116 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTEK. 
 
 ■svould prcssingly insist upon having it ex- 
 ecuted by the lively, industrious, and skilful 
 boy. 
 
 But all this could by no means induce Gus- 
 tavus to lose sight of his higher calling. The 
 mere mechanical business of wall-painting 
 failed to satisfy his soul. The more readily 
 everything coidd be accomplished, the less was 
 he content. He desired to create freely from 
 liis own inspirations, to copy the human face 
 and the human form, to penetrate the secret 
 mysteries of nature, and through the magic of 
 color, bring them to the light of day. This 
 interior impulse drove him to all the picturo- 
 galleries in the capital, and an art exhibition 
 which that year took place ofifered him unut- 
 terable enjoyment and delight. What he saw 
 and thoughtfully considered was stored up in 
 his faithful memory as a rich treasure for 
 future use. During his leisure hours, he drew 
 and painted in his little room to his heart's 
 desire. 
 
 He had set for himself a charming task. IIo 
 determined to copy in a larger size the por- 
 trait in his locket, — his mother, as he alwpyti 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 117 
 
 called it. She stood so clearly and distinctly 
 before his imagination that he had no difficulty 
 ill delineating the beloved features. But often 
 as they were painted and repainted, they failed 
 to satisfy him. In fact, no one could mistake 
 the likeness, but the expression of love and 
 goodness, the heavenly clearness of the eye, 
 and the indescribably lovely smile jdaying 
 about the mouth seemed beyond his reach. 
 His mother's face had become his ideal of all 
 that was lofty and noble in humanity ; no won- 
 der, then, that every copy foil far below his de- 
 sires and intentions ! Those were his happiest 
 hours ! For while he painted, his imagination 
 was excited with pondering over the mystery 
 of liis birth. Who were his parents ? How 
 had he happened to be upon the battle-field at 
 Lcipsic ? These questions received from his 
 fancy the most various replies, and the most 
 romantic and wonderful pictures were ever 
 floating before his interior vision. 
 
 Iluber also gave the boy all the aid he could 
 in his higher efforts. He was not properly an 
 artist, but he had considerable knowledge of 
 painting. When he saw how anxious his pupil 
 
118 TUE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 Tvas to learn, lie imparted to liim many ralu^ 
 ble pieces of information ; he tanglit him how 
 to prepare liis colors, instructed him in tlie 
 laws of perspective, the nature of light and 
 shade, and gave him many useful hints on the 
 theory and practise of art. He also lent liim 
 several works upon painting, which Gustavus 
 frequently studied until late in the night. 
 
 Thus did two years swiftly pass away. Ou 
 the second anniversary of the day on which 
 Gustavus first entered Huber's house, the latter 
 made a little festival. The weather w^as very 
 fine, and tlie whole family went to a neighbor- 
 ing country place. There were found some 
 graceful acacias in full bloom, and all were 
 soon seated in the cool and fragrant shade. 
 The mother had prepared a variety of tempting 
 refreshments, and the father had brought a 
 flask of excellent wine. 
 
 All were joyously happy, and vied with tho 
 feathered songsters singing amid the branches 
 overliead in loudly celebrating their delight 
 and greeting the arrival of another spring. 
 
 Suddenly the father enjoined silence, and 
 said : " My son Gustavus, — for thou art my sou 
 
THE YOUNG rAIXTER. 
 
 119 
 
 through the bvo I bear thcc, as well as through 
 tho affection thou hast ever shown to me, — thou 
 hast now been two years in our liouse. These 
 have been for us all two blissful years, and I 
 rejoice to say that thou hast added much to 
 our happiness. AVitli thee, a good spirit en- 
 tered our dwelling to bless us. Thou wert 
 confided to me on condition that I would to 
 the best of my ability instruct thee in my art. 
 I have done so. But thou hast done far more 
 for tliyself than I coidd do for thcc. Heaven 
 has endowed thee with such unusual abilities 
 tliat thou hast scarcely need to learn ; tliou 
 only requirest once to see and to understand, 
 and tliou art quite ready to execute. Tliou 
 hast harned more in two years than other ap- 
 prentices in four ; I can no longer regard thee 
 as my pupil. Through thy extraordinary gifts, 
 thou hast done much to widen my circle of 
 business and to increase my reputation. I 
 should be both unreasonable and ungrateful 
 were I not to admit thee to a participation in 
 niy profit. From henceforth thou art free. 
 Thou art no longer my apprentice, but my 
 partner and assistant, and thou shalt receive 
 the same remuneration as my other assistants." 
 
120 Tin: YOUNG I'AINTER. 
 
 Wlio c.a:i d^scribo Va3 spocclilcss astoiiish- 
 moiit witli whicli Gustavus listened to these 
 words ! It A\MS not joy at the announccmciit 
 tliat his a])prcnticcship Avas over, nor pride i:i 
 tlie praise tluis bestowed upon liim, tliat so cu- 
 raptured him ; no, it was the true and lieart- 
 fAt love speaking througli every word and ])cn- 
 ctrating his soul like the mild and balmy breath 
 of spring. lie fell weeping upon his master's 
 neck, and cried : " 0, this is too mucli ! Far, 
 far more than I can ever have deserved ! " 
 
 But at that moment the mother produced a 
 basket containing a variety of over and under 
 garments, A\4iich with many friendly words sho 
 offered to Gustavus in token of her affection. 
 Then came the children : the eldest had woven 
 a crown of spring-flowers which she caressing- 
 ly placed upon tlie boy's head, while the two 
 little ones took bodily possession of his hands 
 and knees, embracing him as their elder broth- 
 er. His heart was so full, so overflowing with 
 emotion, that it was some time before he could 
 recover his self-control and power of speech. 
 
 It was quite late before the happy party re- 
 turned to their dwelling in the city. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 121 
 
 Again anotlicr year passed swiftly like Iho 
 last in peaceful uniformity of life. The rela- 
 tions of our Gustavus with this amiable and 
 affectionate family continued unchanged. IIo 
 never relaxed a moment in that diligence which 
 he regarded as one of the most important aids 
 to the great end he still held in view. His 
 hodily strength and stature rapidly increased ; 
 he was soon no longer a boy, but a youth Avliom 
 one might readily suppose a year older than ho 
 really was. His noble countenance, beaming 
 eye, luxuriantly curling hair, and slender but 
 well-proportioned fignre, rendered him a uni- 
 versal favorite, especially as, in adcfftion to these 
 pliysical advantages, his bearing and manners 
 had' been polished and refined by his associa- 
 tion with the painter's excellent family, without 
 having in the least lost their original frankness 
 and true-heartcdness. 
 
 Would not any one have thought that amid 
 such fortunate circumstances he must have folt 
 quite happy and contented ? But this was not 
 the case. The older he grew, the more he be- 
 came convinced that he was not in his true vo- 
 cation. Lot him adorn walls and ceilings eve: 
 11 
 
122 
 
 TIIK YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 SO graccfiillj aiul artistically, this could ncrcr 
 bo anything but a more mechanical occu- 
 pation, satisfying neither his mind nor his 
 heart. 
 
 Art, to which he was no longer a stranger, 
 had chosen him as one of her favored disciples, 
 and tlie longing to devote his whole life to licr 
 service increased almost to feverish impatience. 
 His thoughts were continually turned toward 
 Dresden, then renowned among the cities of 
 Germany for its treasures of painting, and its 
 appreciation for art. Ho felt that he would 
 there find all that filled his thoughts by day 
 and his dreams by night. 
 
 But could he loave the kind, good people to 
 whom he was so closely knit in bonds of love ? 
 His feelings taught him that he had become 
 necessary to them, and that they would suffer 
 much were he now to leave them. What a 
 debt of gratitude did he not owe them ? When 
 lie stood alone and forsaken in a world of stran- 
 gers, they had taken him by the hand, and had 
 never ceased to pour around him all the bless- 
 ings of a father's and a mother's love. Would it 
 not be the blackest ingratitude in him to leavo 
 
THE YOUNG PA INTER. 
 
 123 
 
 tlicir. now that li3 liad bccomo useful to tlicm, 
 and could i:i somo dcgreo repay tliem for all 
 tlioj had do:ic for him? No siu was more ab- 
 horrent to his kind and tender heart than that 
 of ingratitude. 
 
 Such thoughts tormented him unceasingly, 
 lie became melancholy and silent, often witii- 
 drawing from the family circle, and seeking in 
 solitude counsel and refuge in his perplexities. 
 A hundred times was he on the point of an- 
 nouncing his resolution to his master, and as 
 often did his courage fail before a single glance 
 of that kind and loving eye. 
 
 Father Huber and his wife often questioned 
 him with regard to the cau!-:o of his sadness, 
 but he ever returned evasive answers, or, to 
 relieve the anxiety of his kind protectors, would 
 vainly endeavor to seem more cheerful. 
 
 Finally, one evennig when the family were 
 as usual all sitting confidentially together, Hu- 
 ber could no longer refrain from endeavoring 
 seriously to probe the mystery. Gustavus was 
 more silent than ever, and an imslied tear 
 seemed trembling on his lids. 
 
 " Gustavus," said Ilubcr, " 1 must indeed in 
 
124 
 
 THE rOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 sorioiis earnest bog tlioo to toll mo what lies s 
 lioavily upon tliy heart, for that thou hast any- 
 thing upon tliy conscicnco I cannot believe. 
 Thou canst no longer clucb mo ; I must and 
 Avill know the truth." 
 
 The youth looked up. His eyes were swim- 
 ming in tears. 
 
 " See, thou weepest," continued Hubcr. 
 " That is something quite new for thee, for I 
 never knew a livelier lad than thou once wcrt. 
 It must be something very dreadful to cause 
 thine eyes +hus to overflow." 
 
 " Ah ! my good master, I cannot toll it I " 
 
 " What ! Canst thou really have a secret 
 which should make thee blush to speak ? " 
 
 No, oh no, it is not that ! I have dono 
 notiiinQ: wronj? ! But " 
 
 " Come, my son, this will not do. If I am 
 to aid thee, thou must hrst of all have confi- 
 dence in me." 
 
 You insist upon knowing it, and it must 
 at length bo told ! I intend, — I must Icavo 
 you ! " 
 
 These words excited the greatest astonish- 
 ment in the minds of Huber and his wife. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 12.J 
 
 What ! thou Tvilt leave us ? No, v/e cllel 
 hct expect this ! " 
 
 .No, indeed, you did not expect this from 
 m-j ! You thought that you had brouglit 3*0111- 
 Gustavus up so well, and that he felt so happy 
 witli you all, tliat ho would never, never think 
 of baving you." 
 
 " Thou expressest my very thought, and so 
 mucli tlic more curious am I to know the 
 cause of this strange resolution." 
 
 " You Avish to know the cause ? You al- 
 ready know why I left my father's house. I 
 did so tliat I might become a painter. It was 
 tlien a childish impulse, — no, it was more. 
 It Avas a voice speaking from within, wliich, 
 even then, Avhen I scarcely understood its 
 meaning, decided the whole future of my life. 
 I am now three years older, and the voice still 
 calls me ; yea, more distinctly than ever. 
 Master, I can no longer withstand it, I must 
 follow where it leads." 
 
 Iluber was silent a few moments ere ho 
 replied. 
 
 " My dear Gustavus, what thou hast said 
 troubles me exceedhigly. Wo might havo 
 u * 
 
126 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 lived so doliglitfully together. AVo regarded 
 tho3 almost as our own son, and we hoped thy 
 afTectioji for ns would ever load thee to dwell in 
 our midst. I had such fine projects in yiqw for 
 thee, because I thought thou wouldst in time 
 learn to love my occupation. But all tliat is 
 over ; of course, I cannot keep thee if thou 
 Avishest to depart. It makes me very sad; yea, 
 it pains me deeply." 
 
 Gustavus sprang to liis feet. 
 
 " 0, it is just that," cried he, " whicli 
 causes mo such unspeakable sorrow ! I can- 
 not bear that you should think mo so wicked 
 and ungrateful as I must appear to you. What 
 would I havo been if you had not taken pity 
 on me ? Probably a poor, lost creature, or per- 
 haps a mere day-laborer ! I must thank you 
 for all I am and all I can do. And now I 
 must loavo you. Yes, indeed, that is very 
 ungrateful ! " 
 
 " Well, but who forces you to do so ? " 
 
 " I havo already told you, master. An in- 
 ternal impulse forces me onward toward the 
 lofty goal which, since my earliest childhood, 
 lias ever stood before me in the most brilliant 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 127 
 
 and alluring liucs. Art calls mc, and I mu^t 
 follow. All my thoughts and all my wishes 
 centre in that one point." 
 
 " I am sorry thou thinkest so meanly of my 
 art, tliat it cannot aiford thee the least satisfac- 
 tion." 
 
 " no, no ; I do not think meanly of it ! 
 
 j How could I do so, when you, my dear master, 
 arc so sincerely devoted to it. It is indeed 
 well to adorn the dwellings of men with beau- 
 tiful colors and graceful ornaments. But is it 
 not still more noble to adorn them with pic- 
 tures representing nature and humanity in 
 
 ' their most elevated and ideal forms ? " 
 
 Thou speakest very boldly, my son ! An 
 artist, such as thou fanciest, must have talent. 
 Art thou, then, so sure that thou possessest this 
 heavenly gift ? In my opinion, it is better to 
 be a good wall-painter, than a mediocre picture- 
 painter." 
 
 " I agree with you ; that is indeed the main 
 point. If I have no talent, then am I the most 
 ! Unfortunate man under the sun. But no, I 
 am sure, I feel that I have the power to accom- 
 plish something excellent. 0, do not think 
 
128- THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 1113 vain bocaiiso I [peak thus. Jily power is 
 not from myself; it comes from God, and no 
 one could thank God for cuch a gift more 
 liumbly than I do." 
 
 ^' Well, we will grant that ! Thou hast 
 talent, tliou wilt bo an artist. But thou little 
 drcame^t of all that is connected therewith. 
 Thou art young, thou seest the world before 
 thee crowned with roses ; but the thorns thou 
 dost not sec, those sharp, piercing thorns which 
 so often penetrate so deeply and so painfully 
 the heart of the truest artist. Thou knowest 
 nothing of his mental miseries, of his pa,inful 
 renunciations ; nothing of the enmity of his 
 rivals, or the fickle favor or indifference of the 
 multitude. lie who lovingly embraces the 
 whole world, and bears it transfigured in his 
 lieart of hearts, must often find himself mis- 
 known, calumniated, and deeply wounded. 
 The life of most artiets is a series of isolated 
 raptures, severe struggles, long sorrows, and 
 bitter disappointments." 
 
 Huher spoke these words Avith great warmth, 
 and tlien for a time continued thoughtfully 
 silent. Gustavus was deeply moved ; he leaned 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 129 
 
 liis licad upon his hand, and cccmcd lost in 
 reverie. 
 
 " Look at me," resumed llic master. I 
 am no artist ; mj art is but a somewhat ele- 
 vated handicraft. I have never had such 
 dreams as seem to torment tlieo ; I have al- 
 ways clung to tlie golden mean ! Y\"hat then ? 
 Am I not happy ? Do not my friends love 
 me ? Have I not peace and joy in my home ? 
 Does not my labor yield mo a full support, and 
 have I not always something over to strew tho 
 patliway of our more serious life wnth many 
 flowers ? "What more can a man desire than 
 to bo satisfied with little, and to remain true to 
 his modest calling ? This happiness has been 
 secured to theo. But the path that thou 
 wouldest tread leads over unknown wastes to 
 a giddy height. Consider well thy first step, 
 and remember tho fate of Icarus. He would 
 fly up to the sun, but hiswnngs melted, and lio 
 fjll into the unfathomable abyss." 
 
 During these words, Gustavus had risen from 
 liis seat, and in great agitation walked up and 
 down the room. 
 
 " 0, you arc quite right," cried lie, I 
 
130 Tin: YOCNG painter. 
 
 cannot say no to anything yoxi liavo advanced 
 1 wisli I could ! And yet — " 
 
 " Well, and yet ? " 
 Yes, you are happy in your vocation, ))> 
 causo you arc satisfied. But I never could bo 
 happy, because I never could feel satisfied." 
 
 " Gustavus ! Gustavus ! " cried Huber, tlicso 
 words from thy lips pain me deeply." 
 
 " They must be spoken ! ^ly heart demands 
 something more, something higher ! Call mo 
 foolish, capricious, viirionary, if you ^vill ! I 
 -will grant you everything. But one thing I 
 must beg, that you do not misconstrue my 
 heart. I cannot tell you how it pains mc that 
 I must thus distress you. But God knows I 
 cannot do otherwise. My goal is indeed afar 
 off; but still it gleams clearly and distinctly 
 within my soul. What I shall meet upon the 
 way, joy or pain, I know not. But if I can 
 only reach my aim, I will cheerfully bear all 
 that may happen, blaster," — at tliesc words 
 lie seized Iluber's hand and bent his knee be- 
 fore him, — " blaster, suffer mc to depart, and 
 bless me upon my way ! " 
 
 Mrs. Ilubcr had hitherto been a silent but 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 131 
 
 sympathizing listener. Now tliat Gustavns 
 thus imploringly knelt before her husband 
 (who still hesitated witli Avords of warning 
 upon his lips), she could no longer refrain, and 
 said, — 
 
 " Father, do not grieve our Gustavus any 
 longer. Thou seest he is resolved. And 
 though it pains me deeply to lose him, yet I 
 believe he is right. I have long observed 
 something peculiar and unusual in his nature, 
 which Avas certainly created to fulfd some lofty 
 end. The divinity within him impels him on- 
 ward and upward. His heart speaks too 
 plainly to suffer us to be deceived. Wc must 
 not then deprive him of his happiness and good 
 fortune ! " 
 
 " Thanks, a thousand thanks for these kind 
 words ! " cried Gustavus, bending over the 
 mother's hand and covering it with fervent 
 kisses. 
 
 " But, mother," said the master, " dost thou 
 not see that Gustavus is indispensable to me ? 
 Who now will invent the newest designs for 
 mc ? Who will paint the more splendid and 
 t^teful apartments ? If my business has of 
 
132 
 
 THE TOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 lato increased to double its former value, wlic 
 must I tliank but t!ic lad avIio always kucvr 
 liow to find the newest and the best devices ? 
 AYlieii lie goes, he takes witli liim my right 
 liand. But it is not that which troubles mo. 
 It is the boy himself that I shall miss. I liavc 
 become so accustomed to work with him, to talk 
 wit!i lum, to love him, that I cannot see wliat 
 I am to do Avithout him. It is indeed only my 
 love for him that makes me so anxious to keep 
 him with us." 
 
 While he was thus speaking, Gustavus had 
 suddenly left the room, and now returned with 
 a roll of papers. 
 
 " Here ! here ! " cried he, with a beaming 
 countenance, as he placed the roll in his mas- 
 ter's hand. 
 
 What is tliis? " asked the latter, imfolding 
 a number of sheets. 
 
 " Pardon, pardon ! I have long harbored 
 the treacherous thought tliat I would one day 
 ask for my dismissal ; and I fancied I might 
 perhaps leave something behind me which 
 Avould in a measure supply my place." 
 
 " Excellent ! Beautiful ! " cried Ilubcr, aa 
 
THE YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 1S3 
 
 lie examined baf after loaf ^vith the eye of a 
 connoisseur. On every page were clrawiiigfj 
 and sketches of wall decorations, executed witU 
 the greatest taste and neatness. 
 
 " And thou hast drawn all these for me ? 
 Drawn them in the night ? Eh ! t'.iou rogue, 
 thou wantcdst to bribe me ! Now, indeed, I 
 have stuff enough to work on for two years ! 
 And so new and original ! A thousand pities 
 tliat the boy wont be a wall-painter ! lie 
 would be an honor to the profession ! " 
 
 Then turning to Gustavus and seizing his 
 hand, he said in tender and affectionate tones : 
 " Thou hast given me great pleasure. Thy 
 designs are very beautiful, and will be of the 
 greatest assistance to me. They do honor, not 
 only to thy taste and invention, but also to 
 thy heart. I now see that 1 must let thee go ; 
 I cannot do otherwise. Go then, in God's 
 name, wherever thy spirit may lead thee. And 
 if thou shouldst ever become a great painter, 
 do not forget thine old master, who is indeed 
 nothing but a wall-painter, but who will not be 
 so envious that he cannot heartily rejoice over 
 the good fortune and the fame of his pupil." 
 
 12 
 
134 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 Gustavus fell upon Ilubcr's neck, 
 tlianked him over and over again for this 
 kind consent to his desire. Then, taking the 
 motlicr's hand, lie cried, " And now I havo 
 something else for you ; I praj you, come witli 
 me, all of you ! " 
 
 The whole family, old and young, followed 
 him to his little room. There stood an easel 
 on which rested a covered picture. After 
 hastily placing father, mother, and childrou 
 together in one group, he drew aside the veil 
 from the canvas; and lo ! there stood the whob 
 family, admirably grouped, and well painted ! 
 There sat Huber, with his honest, friendly coiri- 
 t3nance ; by his side, leaning upon his shoul- 
 dor, was his wife, smiling softly, with her young- 
 est in her lap playing with a flower ; while the 
 eldest daughter stood at the father's knee, and 
 the boy, busied with a book, sat at the mother's 
 fjet. A little behind, stood Gustavus, with a 
 beaming face, looking over his master's shoul- 
 der. The likenesses were so perfect, tliat all 
 seemed as if gazing into a mirror. A cry of 
 delight arose, and it was long before the tu- 
 mult of joy subsided. The happiest of all was 
 Gustavus. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTEK. 
 
 135 
 
 " Thus," he cried, " thus, ye good and dear 
 ones, thus do yc live in my heart ; thus will 
 ye ever live therein ! Ah ! I so longed to do 
 something that might show you my gratitude. 
 Take, then, this only gift that I can offer you. 
 The best thing in it, is the love with which it 
 was painted ! " 
 
 " And didst thou really paint that ? " finally 
 asked Iluber, slowly recovering from his sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes, my good master ! That is the mys- 
 tery which has so long occupied me, and which 
 has sometimes rendered you uneasy. You 
 often Avondered what I could be doing with 
 locked doors." 
 
 ^' Listen, Gustavus ; thy picture is excellent. 
 In the keen seizure of character and the really 
 artistic grouping, one quite forgets that it is 
 the work of a scholar. And when I remember 
 tliat thou art only sixteen, and that thou hast 
 had so little instruction, I must indeed wonder 
 at thy talent. 1 now say to thee, — thou must 
 away ! I could not ansvv^cr to my own con- 
 science were I to detain thee from a path in 
 which thou mayest become very distinguished." 
 
136 THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 " And dost tiiou know," said tlio mother, 
 vr]iat pbasos mo best in i]\y picture ? — tliat 
 lliou hast not forgotten to include thyself in it. 
 Thy heart has truly taught thee tliat thou art 
 ours, and that thou wilt ever be ours." 
 
 0, how happy I feel ! " cried Gustavuc. 
 " !May I then, when I am far away, may I call 
 myself yours, may I believe that you will ever 
 lovingly think of your faithful Gustavus? 
 That is far more than I had ventured to 
 hope ! " 
 
 The picture was tlien borne in triumpli to 
 tire lower room, and it seemed as if tlie whole 
 family could never weary of gazing upon and 
 examining it. 
 
 Gustavus's journey to Dresden was now a 
 settled fact, and the next few days were passed 
 in making the necessary preparations. Mrs. 
 Iluber carefully provided all that the most ten- 
 der mother could deem needful, and the master 
 secreted quite a considerable sum in one cor- 
 ner of the little trunk. 
 
 The parting took place in the light of the carl/ 
 morning. Gustavus received, with many tears, 
 the assurances of unalterable affection and tho 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER, 
 
 137 
 
 heartfelt blessing of tlic vrortliy pair. His love 
 and gratitude could find no words. The cliil- 
 dren Avore still asleep, and ho tenderly kissed 
 tliom as they lay in tlicir little beds. When 
 they awoke, tney refused to be consoled, be- 
 cause tlicir good Gustavus had gone away, and 
 could no longer talk and play v/itli tbcm. 
 
C II AP T E P. YIII. 
 
 GUSTAVU3 IN DRESDKX, AND WHAT IIAPPLNS TO 
 
 iinr THERE. 
 
 A FEW days lator, Gustaviis reached Dros- 
 de:i. How different was his first appearance 
 iii tliat city from his entrance three years be- 
 fore i;ito Breslau. The then insin^nificant 
 peasant-boy liad become a tall youth, whose 
 dress and bearing attracted the favorable no- 
 tice of many a passer-by. At the former 
 period, quite inexperienced and unskilled in 
 t!ie ways of the world ; he had now grown 
 familiar with its forms and usages, its require- 
 ments and its perils, and tlicre was no longer 
 any danger tliat lie would fall a prey to bad 
 men, or become a sacrifice to misleading and 
 bewildering circumstance. lie was not, as 
 tlien, anxious witli regard to his daily bread, 
 but through- his own savings and his master's 
 
THE YOUNG rAIXTER. 
 
 130 
 
 generosity, ho was the possessor of a consid- 
 erable sum, quito sufficient, with economy, to 
 keep him a long time above the fear of want. 
 But above all, liis end and aim now stood 
 clearly defined bolbic him, and the conviction 
 that ho would there find all he had so long 
 boon seeking fdled hiiii with such cheerful 
 assurance, tliat his glance Avas serene, his step 
 firm, and his heart hopeful and courageous. 
 
 Gustavus employed tlie first few days in 
 looking about the beiuitiful city. Whoever 
 has been in Dresden knows how grand and 
 spacious arc its squan-b', how clean and bright 
 I its streets, liow tastofal its palaces, and how 
 beautiful its churches^. Above all, the Elbe, 
 wliose broad stream divides the city into two 
 parts, presents, with itn lovely shores, an un- 
 rivalled picture. Blooming gardens, line vine- 
 yards, and ornamental country-seats extend 
 to tho very horizon, bounded by the waving 
 lines of a mountain range. Gustavus was 
 charmed with tlie grandeur and beauty in the 
 works both of God and of man concentrated 
 in tliat lovely spot. But even all these faded 
 into tho background tho first time ho entered 
 
HO 
 
 THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 tlic picture-gallery, 0:10 of tlio finest and most 
 select in Europe. 
 
 Tiiere lie saw the masterpieces of the mort 
 cultivated nations. Their number and exceed- 
 ing beautj at first utterly bewildered him, 
 and his admiration and amazement knew no 
 bounds. Like one in a dream, he wandered 
 up and down the great hall, feeling, as his 
 eye fell upon certain pictures, as if he could 
 shout for joy, or bow in veneration, until at 
 length he stood before the celebrated ^ladonna 
 of Raphael (the Sistine), the most precious 
 jewel of the whole collection. When he be- 
 held the glorious queen of heaven, with licr 
 Divine eon in her arms, floating above the 
 cartli, surrounded by a glory of angels, tears 
 of rapture sprang to his eyes, — tears which 
 not only honored tlie immortal genius of tlie 
 great master, but also gave assurance tliat tlie 
 youth's devotion to art was indeed of heavenly 
 origin. From thenceforth he visited the gallery 
 every day. 
 
 Ilnber had named to Gustavus several 
 painters with whom ho miglit seek to be ad- 
 mitted as a pupil. One of them — wc will 
 
call liiin Roland — was especially celebrated. 
 Giistaviis caw one of his ])icturcs i:i the gal- 
 lery, a:id fjlt indescribably attracted toward 
 its aiitlior. The painting represented a beau- 
 tiful mountain landscape, witli aged oaks and 
 pines, bold rocks and rushing streams, — the 
 Fun was just gilding with his fir:Lt rays the 
 mountain-tops, and the clouds floating in tlio 
 transparent blue of heaven ; in the foreground, 
 beside a little hut, knelt a hermit lost in de- 
 votion, and praying to the great Creator of the 
 glorious nature around him. All lay in sol- 
 emn peace and silent beauty, announcing the 
 greatness and goodness of Him Avho, with al- 
 miglity power and infinite love, rides over 
 tlie works of his creation. 
 
 Gustavus often returned to this picture, and 
 soon liad an opportunity of seeing the pairJter 
 himself, who, accompanied by several ladies 
 and gentlemen, stood before Ids latest produc- 
 tion. His noble figure and benign counte- 
 nance made a deep impression upon our young 
 friend, and fdled him Avith a burning desire 
 I to be guided by him tlu'ough tlie high.cr walks 
 of art, -I3ut how could ho approach him, how 
 
142 
 
 THE TOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 ill Ills lowliness hope to bo regarded and 
 hearkened to ? He gazed long and intently 
 upon the master's face, and wlien he left the 
 hall followed with a heavy heart, not ventur- 
 ing to approach or address the object of his 
 veneration. Thus passed several days. When 
 Gustavus was alone, ho felt quite self-assured, 
 imagined the most delightful interviews, and 
 fancied his desire almost fulfilled. But as 
 soon as he directed his steps toward the 
 painter's dwelling, or accidently met him in 
 the gallery or the walks, his courage failed, 
 and he felt too shy to intrude himself upon 
 the man with whom ho had linked all his 
 hopes for tlie future. Finally, however, 
 chance, or rather that higher Power, wdiich, 
 unknown to us, so often guides our destiny 
 into noAV patlnvays, came to his assistance. 
 
 One line morning, Gustavus went to walk 
 amid the lofty and beautiful trees in the 
 " Great Park." The luxuriance of nature 
 blooming round him, the freshness of the fra- 
 grant air, the clear sunliglit gleaming in a 
 thousand sparkles through the quivering leaves, 
 the warbling of the birds intoning their joyous 
 
THE YOUNG PAINT 
 
 143 
 
 liymiis in tlio dcptlis of i]\o groves, all ren- 
 dered him inexpressibly happy. The fiituro 
 ' lay hopeful and smiling before him ; if Master 
 Roland were there, lie would surely have cour- 
 age to present his petition. AYhen lo ! as lio 
 stepped forward toward a shady nook, his 
 eye fell upon a gentleman sitting on a bench 
 alone. IIo was not mistaken, — it was the 
 master. He was certainly occupied with some 
 grand and beautiful conception, for he was 
 gazhig thoughtfully before him, and draAving 
 figures on the sand with the end of liis cane. 
 
 A slight tremor ran through Gustavus's 
 every limb, his blood rushed tumultuously 
 toward his heart. He was about turiiir»g 
 modestly away ; but no, thought he, new or 
 never ! I shall not have such another oppor- 
 tunity. IIo stepped softly forward, and, lift- 
 ing his hat, stood near the end of the bench. 
 He hoped the master would observe and ad- 
 dress him. In fact, the slight rustling near 
 him had roused the painter from his reverie. 
 He turned a long and searching look upon the 
 youth, who, v\'ith downcast eyes and modest 
 mien, stood before him. Finally, he asked iix 
 
14i 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 a serious, but by no moans a bars'!! tone of 
 voic3,— 
 
 " Do you Yvnsli anytiiing fi'oni mo ? 
 
 " Yes," v/as the ahnost inaudible reply. 
 
 " If I do not mistake, I liave often seen you 
 before in the picture-gallery. You seem to 
 place yourself in my vicinity." 
 
 ^' I desired to attract your observation. 
 Now I am fortunate cnou^2,"b to venture to 
 speak witli you." 
 
 " Sit down, then. Tlie morning is fine. 
 We will talk a little. And, first, vbo are 
 yon?" 
 
 My name is Gustavus Lraun. I am a 
 painter, or, rather, I desire to become one." 
 
 Aha ! now I see. You are poor ; do you 
 Avisli assistance ? " 
 
 ^' No, no," cried Gustavus. "I have not 
 much, but all tliat is necessary. My wishes 
 go much higher." 
 
 Indeed ! then I can scarcely aid you." 
 " yes ! You can, — you alone ! " 
 
 You excite my curiosity. AVhat is it ? " 
 " Suffer mo to kiss your hand ? " said Gus- 
 tavus, fairly overcome by his feelings. 
 
THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 145 
 
 " This is extraordinary ! " cried Roland, 
 drawing back tlio hand which the youth had 
 seized and kissed. 
 
 ■ " I have seen a picture of yours. 0, so 
 beautiful! I have no words to express it!" 
 
 " And is this all you liave to say to me ? " 
 
 " no ! Mucli more. But 1 am afraid ! " 
 Well, tlicn, I suppose I am not to liear." 
 
 " My desire is so great, that, Y.^ere it not fuU 
 filled, I sh.ould be very unliappy." 
 
 " So mucli t!ie more do I wisli to know it. 
 No one shall be unhappy i'f 1 can prevent it." 
 
 " You wisli to know it ? Well, then, I 
 would like to be your pupil." 
 
 Tlicse words were so softly spoken, that Ho- 
 land was obliged to ask a repetition. He 
 was greatly astonished. Doubting wlietlicr ho 
 had heard aright, ho looked up to the j'outh, 
 who was gazing upon him with suffused and 
 imploring eyes. 
 
 ^' This is indeed quite unexpected. No 
 pupil until now has ever thus introduced him- 
 rx'lf. I almost think I shall be unable to 
 grant your r^jquest." 
 
 "0, that was what I feared ! " cried Gus- 
 
 13 
 
14G 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTLR. 
 
 tavus, his eyes fiiling with tears. It would 
 liavo been too much happiness. How could I 
 tliink that so renowned and great a man would 
 condescend to look down npon me, a poor and 
 unknown youth ! " 
 
 " Young man, judge for yourself. You aro 
 entirely unknown to me. I am ignorant of 
 your parentage and circumstances ; I know 
 nothing of your previous education or of your 
 capabilities. How then caiL I, without further 
 information, receive you as my pupil ? " 
 
 " May I, then, tell you the simple history of 
 my life ? " 
 
 " I beg you will do so." 
 
 Gustavus told all ; his life at home, his jour- 
 ney to Breslau, his adventures Avith Feldbcrg 
 and Huber, His manner, at first hesitating 
 and timid, became as he proceeded lively and 
 entluisiastic. Ho especially dwelt upon the 
 fact, that since his earliest childhood he had 
 been impelled by some powerful inward pres- 
 sure toward the art of painting, and tliat his 
 every desire centred in the hope of becoming 
 one of her most devotod disciples. 
 
 " Thus, then," said he, in conclusion, camo 
 
Till'. YOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 147 
 
 I hero. I f^lt that licro, if anywhere, tho goal 
 niight bo attained. All th.at I have seen ^inco 
 ■ my arrival in this city, the grand and tho beau- 
 tiful, liavo only etimnlatod my deeires into a 
 quonchlcss longing. And must I ^tand by tho 
 living spring, and not bo suffered to satisfy my 
 thirst ? Must I see tlie golden apples of art 
 hanging before my eyes, v/ithout venturing to 
 stretch forth my arm to pluck them ? 0, 
 kind sir, have pity upon mo ! Only bo my 
 master, and I will be the most docile and obe- 
 dient of your pupils ! " 
 
 Eoland had listened with amazement and 
 ever increasing sympathy to this passionate 
 discourse. This Avas evidently no ordinary 
 youth. His eyes flashed, and his checks 
 glowed. The painter thought he had never 
 seen liner features, or a more noble expression 
 of countenance. 
 
 My dear young friend," said he, " I see 
 that you have at least a passionate love for art. 
 But that is not enough." 
 
 ^- 0, I know, I know ! You mean talent ? " 
 
 " Tho word Art is derived from roots simii- 
 fying power, capacity. To be able is the main 
 thing. What is it you can do ? " 
 
148 THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 I 
 
 " I foar I can as yet do very little." 
 
 " But the capacity to do, the ability, must 
 exist. 1 have made it a rule never to encour- 
 ag3 mediocre talent. I owe this to my art. 
 There are bunglers and daubers enough in this 
 world ; I shall certainly do nothing to increase 
 their number. 
 
 " Then you think if I had talent, real tal- 
 ent — " 
 
 Gustavus left his sentence unfinished. A 
 ray of hopeful joy beamed tlirough his soul. 
 
 " Tlien, indeed, we might consider the mat- 
 ter. My friend, art is difficult, the aim is 
 lofty, and the way long and arduous. Thcro 
 are few, very few, who know the goal, and 
 have courage and strength sufficient to climb 
 the steep and narrow path." 
 
 " 0, I know the goal ! " 
 
 " Tell it me then ! " 
 Raphael's Madonna ! " cried Gustavus. 
 
 A sudden blush colored his cheek, and a 
 smile played round the painter's beautiful, 
 earnest mouth. 
 
 Indeed," cried he, "that is very bold! 
 And do you hope to become a Raphael ? " 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 140 
 
 " Alas I I know that is impossiblo ! God 
 has thus endowed but one man only ; but aro 
 not the truly great and noblo sent upon the 
 earth to charm the eyes and inspire the hearts 
 of lesser men ? " 
 
 You aro right ! One must indeed strive 
 for the highest if one would pass the common 
 bounds and rise above mediocrity. But the 
 way, my friend, — have you forgotten that the 
 way is long and steep ? " 
 
 Have you not just said that it was the part 
 of courage to climb ? " 
 
 " Truly, of steadfast, enduring, and self-sac- 
 rificing courage." 
 
 " I pray God daily to maintain and increase 
 it in me ! " 
 
 " Then you think you already possess it ? 
 Well, it shall be put to the proof! Only you 
 must not thiidc that to study painting is to 
 wander in a garden of roses. The mere paint- 
 ing is but of secondary consideration ; practice 
 alone can effect but little. You must study ; 
 you must comprehend the human soul as well 
 as the human body ; nature must be open to 
 you, not only in her external phenomena, but 
 
 13* 
 
1^0 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 also in licr liiddcn spirit ; tlic history of 
 maiiity and of tiic arts must lio before you as 
 an open book. 1 niiglit say that there was no 
 sphere of solid or elevated learning which tlio 
 true artist should not embrace in the spu-it of 
 love." 
 
 " 0, I had divined all tliis," cried Gustavus, 
 " and now it stands wonderfully clear beforo 
 my soul. For tliat very reason, my dear sir, 
 do I require a master, to learn all ariglit, and 
 properly to embrace the whole with my under- 
 standing." 
 
 " And now enough, my dear friend. I must 
 tliank you for a very pleasant hour. Y\q will 
 hereafter speak of the rest. Come to me tliis 
 afternoon, and we will see Avhat can be done. 
 Do 3^ou know where I live ? " 
 
 " yes," cried Gustavus, with difficulty re- 
 pressing his delight. " I have often stood for 
 hours together before 3'our dwelling, without 
 daring to enter." 
 
 " Wonderful youtli ! " thought Roland, as 
 he walked away. Can it be my good fortune 
 to have liad a diamond thrown in my way. 
 wliich, when polished, will emit the most gl> 
 rious light ? " 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 lol 
 
 Intoxicated with delight, Gustavus followed 
 tlic master. He tliouglit he had finally reached 
 the long-desired aim. He felt inwardly con- 
 vinced that if he were permitted to lay before 
 lloland some specimen of his capabilities, he 
 would not be rejected. The hours of the fore- 
 noon crept slowly on, and, long before the ap- 
 pointed time, ho stood before the painter's 
 house. Three o'clock fmally came ; Gustavus 
 entered with a beating heart, and was di- 
 rected by a servant to Roland's studio, with 
 the information that ho watj tiierc to await the 
 master's arrival. 
 
 Ho gazed curiously around. The studio 
 was a largo, cheerful, and tastefully furnished 
 ball, commanding a view into a beautiful gar- 
 den. A number of young persons were vari- 
 om]y employed ; some ground and prepared 
 colors; others were drawing from casts ; others, 
 again, were painting at tlieir easels ; on the 
 walls hung several fine pictures in handsome 
 frames. Gustavus' s entrance for a moment 
 interrupted the busy but noiseless labors of the 
 students, but all eyes Averc soon again turned 
 upon thca- several employments. After the lapse 
 
152 ITIZ rOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 of a fjw moments tlio mastor entered, and his 
 friendly glance fell at once upon the youth vriio 
 itoD'l in a respectful attitude near the door. 
 
 Ah ! thou here ? " cried Roland. ^' Thou 
 hast not let thyself be waited for ; a proof tlr.it 
 tiiou hast happily overcome thy fear of me." 
 
 This address sounded so kind and hearty, 
 that it banished every remaining feeling of 
 timid anxiety from the young man's breast. 
 Ho also regarded it as a good omen, that tho 
 master in speaking to him, instead of you, cm- 
 ployed tlie more familiar thou. 
 
 " I already feel quite sure thou hast a real 
 love and appreciation for art. But I vrould also 
 like to know what degree of skill thou liast 
 actually acquired, ^youldst thou be willing 
 to give me some little specimen of what thou 
 canst do ? " 
 
 That is my most anxious desire ! " replied 
 Gustavus. 
 
 " Canst thou draw from thine own head ? 
 I mean, canst thou design a little group Avitli- 
 out having any pattern ? " 
 
 " If the exercise be not too difficult, I will 
 try.'' 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 153 
 
 Roland thought a moment. 
 
 " Come," said ho, " sketch tlie scene cf cm- 
 meeting in the great park this mornir.g. Onl / 
 a rapid sketcli ! Nothing fmished I " 
 
 Gustavus trembled with delight. Aided ly 
 his excellent memory and his lively imagi:ia- 
 tion, he had always been most successful in liis 
 portraiture of human countenances, lie cast 
 a long and stoady glance upon Roland's face, 
 and then moved onward to the designated 
 place, where he found paper and the necessary 
 drawing materials. lie chose the moment 
 when liD found Roland sitting on the bench, 
 lost in thought, and Avlien, Avitli imploring 
 mien he first approached him. The master, 
 meanwhile, Avent to liis easel, standing near a 
 window, wdiere, with a steady hand he Avorked 
 upon a large painting. 
 
 After the lapse of a half-Iiour, Gustavus cried 
 out, — 
 
 " I am ready now ! " 
 Let us see then ! I am really quite curi- 
 ous to know how thou hast succeeded ! " 
 
 So sayhig, Roland took the paper, and 
 scarcely hxlit met his view, when diis^ o/)untc- 
 
154 
 
 THE YOUNG PAIXTER. 
 
 nance assumed an expression of the greatest 
 astonishment. 
 
 *' Great Heaven!" he cried, "this is well, 
 very well done ! What excellent likenesses ! 
 AVhat firmness ! iVnd how beautifully tl:o 
 whole is managed ! This is far more than I 
 expected ! " 
 
 Gustavus's delight at these words was so 
 great, that bright tears rolled down over his 
 cheeks. At that moment the door opened, and 
 an old gentleman of dignified exterior, hut 
 friendly countenance, entered. It was Count 
 Sommerfeld, who thought he could not better 
 employ his large property than by encouraging 
 true art and assisting worthy artists. He was 
 very intimate ^vith Roland, and often visited 
 his studio to enjoy the beautiful pictures, and 
 the master's intellectual conversation. 
 
 " Come here. Count ! " cried Roland, " hero 
 is something really extraordinary. Do yon sec 
 that youth, still half a boy ! He accosted mo, 
 while I was taking my morning walk, with tlio 
 request tliat I would be his master. Of course 
 I tliought that very strange, and probed him 
 severely. But he stood the trial bravely. I 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 loo 
 
 bado liim como to mo this afternoon, and liavo 
 jiift given him a subject to try liis powers. 
 Look, the picture speaks for itself! " 
 
 The Count gazed sympathizingly upon the 
 httlc group, and then said : And what will 
 you do, my good friend ? The petition set 
 forth by this picture seems to me so eloquently 
 expressed that you cannot well refuse it." 
 
 " Indeed ! What will I do ? If I do not 
 take him, ho will go straiglit to some other 
 master, and I shall lose the pleasure of for 
 once cultivating a real talent ! " 
 
 "Agreed, then!" said the Count. "You 
 must koep the youth, whose face besides pleases 
 mo greatly. But you must also leave me a 
 share in 3^our good vrork. I v/ill prove him 
 further, and seo what I can do for liim." 
 
 This short conversation was held in the re- 
 cess of a vrindow, at a littlo distance from, 
 vrhcre Gustavus stood. When it was conclud- 
 ed, Roland approached the youth and said, — 
 
 Thy desire shall bo fuliilled ; 1 liave decid- 
 ed to receive theo as my pupil. Thou must 
 find thoo a room in my neighborhood, and como 
 to me every morning at seven o'clock. Of the 
 rest, we will speak hereafter." 
 
156 
 
 THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 GustaTus had no Trords to express his grati- 
 tiido and joy ; ho couLl only scizo tlio master's 
 hand and forvontlj press it to his hps. II3 
 then liastencd to his own dwelling. His first 
 impulse tliero was to Ml upon his knees and 
 tliank God for all the happiness he had sent 
 him ; his second, to draw forth his beloved 
 locket, and in silent communion with his mot!i- 
 cr's image, confide to her all that had hap- 
 pened. When he became more quiet, lie 
 poured forth his joy in two letters which were 
 severally despatched to his foster-father, Braun, 
 and his recent master, Huber. . 
 
 In fact, no life could be better or happier for 
 our Gustavus than that which he led under 
 the guidance of the painter Roland. The latter 
 was an artist in tlio fullest sense of the word, 
 quiet, sensible, and full of deep and creativo 
 enthusiasm for his art. His instructions, cc- 
 pecially the conversations into which he fre- 
 quently entered with his pupils, were in the 
 highest degree useful and inspiring, and made, 
 upon Gustavus, who eagerly caught every word, 
 tlio deepest impression. It seemed to him as if 
 a veil had suddenly been withdrawn from man/ 
 
THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 157 
 
 mysteries which lie had half divined, but whoso 
 causes and principles he had been iinablo to 
 discover. The best understanding also subsist- 
 ed between Gustavus and his fellow-students ; 
 as tlicy all united in love and veneration toward 
 their master, they Avere all good friends, and 
 the young man, for the first time in his life, en- 
 joyed the pleasure of association with persons 
 of his own age, engaged in similar pursuits. 
 
 It Avas especially fortunate for him that ho 
 had won the regard of Count Sommerfcld. 
 When tliat nobleman visited the studio, he fre- 
 quently conversed with Gustavus, questioned 
 him with regard to his past life, and criticised 
 I his efforts. He also permitted him the use of 
 his fine picture-gallery and excellent library. 
 The old man soon observed that the youth was 
 lacking in general cultivation, in the knowl- 
 edge of many branches of learning indispensa- 
 ble to his career as an artist. One day he said 
 to him, — 
 
 " Gustavus, dost thou know what, after vh'- 
 tue, chiefly adorns every man, especially every 
 artist?" 
 
 " I think, modesty ! " replied the youth, 
 u 
 
158 THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 Tliat, too ! 13nt tliat is not wliat I inoa: 
 I a:n thinking of somotliiiig thou dost not 
 
 J2t possess." 
 
 Gustavus looked np inquiringlj into t!i 
 man's face. 
 
 " Thou liast told mo thou hast novor boon at 
 any cxcopt a village school." 
 
 " Alas ! it is indeed so." 
 Tlie consequence of whic-i is, t]iat thou art 
 quite ignorant." 
 
 " I wisli 1 could deny it," 
 
 " Tliou must no longer remain so. Dost 
 thou desire to become a real, a genuine art- 
 ist ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is my mos* earnest desire." 
 
 " Thou knowest well that more is required 
 than a happy talent and a pkilful hand. These 
 are both necessary to procbjce excellence, but 
 tliey will not alone suffice to create works which 
 shall elevate as well as delight the contemporary 
 world, and hereafter stand a? landmarks fir 
 above tlie levelling stream of tiin-^. A spirit, 
 my son, is needful, whicli, nourished by every 
 noble science, shall be able with cer'^^ainty to 
 decide upon t!io true, the good, and the beau- 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 15a 
 
 tiful. Now, canst thou not tell me what most 
 adonis an artist ? 
 
 " Ah yes ! " sighed Gustavus, " knowledge ! 
 And that I have not." 
 
 " Thou art right ! Knowledge ! A knowl- 
 cdg3 which shall on every side cultivate t!io 
 mind and the heart. I do not mean that it is 
 necessary for the artist to be a professed man 
 of science, but he must be sufficiently familiar 
 with the whole range of human learning to bo 
 able to draw forth the gold and the silver for 
 his own art. Thinkest thou, thou could^t bo 
 a reasonable landscape painter without an ac- 
 curate knowledge of nature ? Couldst thou 
 succeed in a historical picture without a true 
 insight into the spirit of past ages ? " 
 
 "Then I can never be a true artist!" said 
 Gustavus, with a heavy heart. 
 
 " Thou must make up all that is lacking to 
 thee." 
 
 I would cheerfully do so ! But you forget, 
 Count, that I am poor." 
 
 " I will take care of that. I will procure 
 thee masters, and Roland will spare thee the 
 necessary time. The chief and the best part 
 
IGO 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 deponds upon thyself alone ; namely, the inter- 
 est, desire, and industry witli which thou wilt 
 dovote thyself to serious study.'* 
 
 And tluis it was. The good Count procured 
 for Gustavus the best masters, and tlic youth 
 devoted each day several hours to tlic study of 
 history, natural science, and modern languages. 
 An eager desire to learn, and great quickness 
 of mind, gave him great advantages, and ho 
 made rapid progress in every branch. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHO ARE MY TARENTS ? 
 
 Thus, amid tlio most fortunato and agrccablo 
 circumstances, did our Gustavus pass two happy 
 years. If wo have succeeded in conveying any 
 just idea of the young man's extraordinary ca- 
 pacities and genuine love for art, our readers will 
 not be surprised to learn, that under the guid- 
 ance of so eminent a master as Roland, aided 
 by the spiritual encouragement and assistance 
 of the excellent Count, and surrounded by all 
 the treasures of art, and the ever-living intel- 
 lectual activity of the art-loving city, he had 
 become a distinguished artist. Having taken 
 the prize at an exhibition of the Academy of the 
 Fine Arts, his pictures being remarkable not 
 only for their admirable execution, but also for 
 their spirited conceptipu an(i deep signilicaucc, 
 
1G2 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 his iiamo was already pronounced witli respect. 
 In addition to this, the clegaiice and beauty of 
 his youthful figure, tlie noble simplicity of his 
 manners, and his finely cultivated intellect, 
 gained him tlio love of many, as well as a.i 
 entrance into the higher ranks of £.ociety. 
 
 Roland, at the end of two years, had declared 
 that Gustavus could no longer be his pupil ; 
 he must now pursue the paths of art supported 
 by liis own powers, and relying upon his own 
 genius. The young man found the needful 
 l)ecuniary support, partially in a small pension 
 from the government, procured for him by tho 
 Count, and partially through the sale of his 
 paintings, which vrerc much prized and sought 
 after. He already began to dream of a joui> 
 ncy through the cradle of the arts, the dream- 
 land of every artist, beautiful and soul-entran- 
 cing Italy. 
 
 The older GustaA'us grew, the more frequent- 
 ly and earnestly did the question force itself 
 upon him : Who am I ? The mystery en- 
 shrouding his birth, which he had long, by a 
 thousand suppositions striven to penetrate, 
 luuig above liis life like- a ^ark cloud, and ever 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 1G3 
 
 allured the working of his restless imagination, 
 continually adding new fancies to the old. 
 Were his parents still living ? Who, and 
 where were they ? How could he Avin an an- 
 swer to this important question ? lie could 
 fnid no clow to the labyrinth. His secret Avas 
 to him so sacred and holy that he had hitherto 
 silently concealed it in his own bosom, and 
 had confided it to no one, not even to his dear 
 Count. 
 
 To ease a little his restlessly beating heart, 
 he determined to select the wild battle-scene 
 with which, when a little child, his fate had 
 been entangled, as the subject of a largo pic- 
 ture. His lively imagination was busied in 
 bringing together all that it had presented to 
 him as possible, or probable. His reasoning 
 was nearly as follows : A baby, sucli as I then 
 was, could scarcely have been found in such a 
 fearful scene, unless its mother had been 
 near. But what could have induced her, a 
 delicate woman, to place herself and lier child 
 amid the dangers of a battle-field ? She ccr- 
 taiidy must have been the wife of a French, 
 officer, and her love for him must have im- 
 
IGl 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 pcllocl licr to follow liim at a diort distance 
 from tlio army. Sho probably doomed tho 
 uiifortiinato issiio of tho battlo impossiblo, and 
 thus found herself overwhelmed by the confu- 
 sion of the flight. In the tumult, her carriage 
 was overturned and tlirown into a ditch, whence 
 sho was deprived of all means of proceeding 
 furtlier. But how had she boon separated 
 from her child ? Must not one surely think 
 sho would have died with him rather than 
 forsake him ? This fact seemed explicable 
 only by the supposition of the presence of some 
 more powerful affection. The place where tho 
 carriage was found had evidently been tho 
 scene of a fierce struggle between the flying 
 and their pursuers. And might not his 
 mother's husband, his father, have been 
 among tho former ? She became aware of his 
 presence, saw him wounded before her very 
 eyes ; in the agony of mortal anguish sho 
 rushed toward him, forgetting the child which 
 lay in the bottom of the carriage. 
 
 Here, however, ended all his suppositions. 
 IIow his mother had quitted tho battle-field, 
 why she had not returned for her child, and 
 
THE TOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 1G5 
 
 what had boon her Eiibscquciit history, ^Yoro 
 facts lost in the impenetrable darknesG of the 
 niystcrious past. 
 
 From the above data, Gustavus designed Iris 
 picture. The conception was bold, and in tlio 
 broadest style. A horrible confusion of Freiic]! 
 and Prussian troops ; on tlic faces of the com- 
 batants on either side, heroic determination 
 and despairing rage, or overwhelming courage 
 and the joy of victory ; scattered between, 
 rearing horses, broken cannon, wounded and 
 dying men ; in the foreground, a Frencli 
 officer of lofty and noble stature sinking 
 Avounded from his battle-steed, while a young 
 and beautiful woman, — wonderfully like the 
 picture in the locket, — rushing forward, with 
 love and horror in her face, seizes him in her 
 arms, — were the most prominent objects in 
 the composition. A little to one side was the 
 broken carriage, and in it the child, whose 
 peaceful slumber and angelic innocence pre- 
 sented an indescribable contrast to the fearfid 
 scene surrounding it. Over all floated the 
 misty atmosphere, the melancholy gray of a 
 late autumn evening. 
 
IGG 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 Tin pictur3 Avas fiiiislioJ. Gustaviis had 
 paiiitod it with all tlio stroiigtli of lovo and 
 corrow within liis soul. He was almost £uro 
 tliat it rcprcsciitod a portion of his own histoiy, 
 and thonco was it especially dear to him. Il3 
 also thought it nearer to the high ideal he haci 
 ever before him than any of his prcvioua 
 Avorks. He had long wished to present somD 
 faint token of his gratitude to the good Count, 
 to whose fatherly affection he was indebted for 
 so large a portion of his present happiness. 
 AVhat if he were to beg him to receive tho 
 picture as a gift ? A suitable opportunity was 
 near at hand ; in a few days the Count would 
 celebrate his birthday. lie could at the samo 
 time confide to him the mysterious circum- 
 stances of his own childhood, for he had deter- 
 mined no longer to conceal tlicm from so kind 
 a friend. The thouglit of seeing his favorite 
 picture in the hands of his beloved benefactor 
 filled him with such delight, that he looked 
 forward with longing expectation to the arrival 
 of the happy day. 
 
 The birthday came. Gustavus had the pic- 
 ture taken to the Count's palace, and hung la 
 
THE TOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 1G7 
 
 one of tho lower rooms. lie then went up to 
 tli3 Count's chamber, wlierc lie met with tlio 
 usual cordial reception, and where, in a few 
 heartfelt words, he offered liis congratulations 
 and wishes for future liappiness. 
 
 " Thou wishest mo liappiness," said tlie old 
 man. " But thou forgettest tliat I am to-day 
 seventy years old. What the world calls hai> 
 piness no longer exists for so aged a man. 
 We live alone in the past and in the future. 
 Memory and hope fdl our being. Happy is ho 
 whose memories are peaceful and whose hopes 
 are joyful. AVe must at every moment be pre- 
 pared to lay- down the staff at that shadowy 
 bourne dividing this world from tlie next." 
 
 " No, no," cried Gustavus, deeply moved. 
 " The sun of your life will long shine in tlio 
 heaven whence it has so mildly and blessedly 
 beamed upon my days." 
 
 ^' We will leave that to a higher power ; let 
 us now speak of thee. It is one of the greatest 
 pleasures of age to find itself renewed in t!io 
 blooming youth of others, and to Avatch a de- 
 velopment so liiie, and yet in many things so 
 unlike its own. The mysterious dispensations 
 
1C8 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 of Providence have, alas ! deprived mo of 
 pleasure of thus following the growth of my own 
 sons and grandsons. So much the more happy 
 am I to have found in thee a consolation for my 
 declining days. I have regarded thy progress 
 v/ith the greatest delight. Thy life has indeed 
 been as the flight of the young eagle toward 
 the sun, and I rejoice that it has been in my 
 power somewhat to strengthen thy wings." 
 
 " And I would willingly show my gratitude. 
 Eut how can 1, when I have nothing but my 
 good-will, and all I could possibly do would 
 still fall so far behind your kindness ? And 
 yet I liave made a sliglit attempt. I have fin- 
 ished a small work, and it would give me great 
 pleasure if you would receive it in token of my 
 boundless love and gratitude." 
 
 " What ! A picture ? I like that ! I will 
 receive it with pleasure. Where is it ? " 
 
 " In one of the lower rooms. May I ask you 
 to go down vfitli nic ? " 
 
 At that moment a side door opened, and a 
 noble lookip.g lady entered. Although no 
 longer young, — for she was apparently about 
 forty, — she still bore the traces of great beauty. 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 Her countcnanco was lovely but pale, and a 
 close observer could not fail to perceive traces 
 of sorrow and suffering left upon it by severe 
 struggles and trials. Her eyes possessed un- 
 common gentleness and tenderness, and their 
 expression became still more beautiful as they 
 turned upon the old man a smiling glance of 
 inexpressible affection. 
 
 f "Ah! thou art just in time!'' cried the 
 Count. " Dear Gustavus, that is my daugliter, 
 the widowed Baroness von Adlersberg. Even 
 the long distance from her estates to Dresden 
 could not prevent her coming to surprise mo 
 witli her good wishes on my birthday. My 
 dear daugliter, this is the young painter, Gus- 
 tavus Braun, of Avhom I have already spoken 
 to you." 
 
 The lady kindly offered the young man her 
 hand. " My father has told me mucli good of 
 )'ou, and I am the more rejoiced to have met 
 
 you." 
 
 Thus saying, her eyes rested long and search- 
 ingly upon the youth's countenance, and some 
 dark cloud seemed to dim her beautiful eyes. 
 
 " Well, you will soon learn to know each 
 
 15 
 
170 THE YOUNG rAIXTEK, 
 
 other boitcr ! " raid llio Count. " And now lot 
 iio vp. Gustavus lias prepared a surprise for 
 mo. A picture awaits us that "sve must see at 
 once." 
 
 They vrcnt. Gustavus felt strangely moved, 
 lie knew that the Count had a daugliter Vvho 
 lod a lonely and retired life upon her ovrn c:- 
 tates, but he had heard nothing of her arrival, 
 which had only taken place the CA'cning bcforo. 
 He found it impossible to account for the sin- 
 gular sensations wliich the sight of her had 
 awakened within him. They reached the hall, 
 and stood before the picture which had been 
 hung in an excellent light, but was still cov- 
 ered with a heavy curtain. Vnth a trembling 
 hand the young man tore away the veil, and 
 the battle-scene stood before them in all its 
 fearful truth. 
 
 But how utterly indescribable was tlie im- 
 pression it made upon the beholders. The 
 Count seemed totally bewildered, and tho 
 Baroness stared with a look of unuttcrabb 
 horror upon the picture. She became deathly 
 pale. Her eyes seemed starting from their 
 sockets, her limbs trembled, and her form bent 
 breathlessly forward. 
 
THE TOUXG rAIXTER. 
 
 171 
 
 "For God's sake," cried she at length, " what 
 does tliat picture mean ? " 
 
 " It represents a scene at the last battle of 
 Loipsic," replied Gustavus. 
 
 " Lcipsic I " repeated tlio Baroness, in faint 
 tones. The shock was too great. Her strength 
 failed and her consciousness fled. Her father 
 and Gustavus were obliged to support and lead 
 her to a seat. 
 
 "In the name of Eternal Love! " cried tho 
 Count. " Gustavus, explain ! explain I " 
 
 " What I have here represented I learned 
 from my father, " replied Gustavus, trembling, 
 and pale as deat]i. 
 
 " How ! From thy father ? I do not un- 
 derstand — " 
 
 " 'My father was a Prussian soldier in the 
 battle of Leipsic." 
 
 " But the child ! the child ! " cried the Bar- 
 oness, wlio had now recovered from her mo- 
 mentary faintness. 
 
 " The child was carried from t]io battle-field 
 by my father." 
 
 Like a sudden flash, these words penetrated 
 the Baroness's every nerve. She rose, seized 
 
172 
 
 THE YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 tlio 3'outli's shoulders witli both licr hands, and 
 in heart-breaking tones cried out: — 
 
 ''And it lives? it live^ ? — no, do not an- 
 swer ! It Avould kill mo were you to say no ! — 
 Great God ! you make no reply ; — does Vao 
 child then live ? " 
 
 " It lives," replied Gustavus, who now could 
 witli difficulty master tlic ijtorm of feeling with- 
 in his own bosom. 
 
 The Baroness sank upon her fatlier's breast. 
 "It lives! it lives!" she repeated softly, but 
 with almost superhuman joy. But where ? 
 wliero ? " cried she, again turning to the youth. 
 " Where is my son ? " 
 
 " Here, at your feet ! " exclaimed Gustavus, 
 embracing, with unutterable rapture, the knees 
 of his finally found mother. 
 
 No ; joy does not kill. Else would tlie Bar- 
 oness surely have fallen a victim to tlie violenco 
 of her emotions. But God who had just sliown 
 his marvellous providence and his wondrous 
 guidance of events, gave her strengtli to resist 
 t!icir overwhelming power. She sank on licr 
 knees before Gustavus, flung her arms around 
 him, buried her face in his curls, and gave vent 
 
TnE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 173 
 
 to her feelings in unrestrained sobs and tears. 
 The old man stood near, laid his liands ca- 
 ressingly upon tlio heads of his daughter and 
 his grandson, and lifting his eyes to lieaven 
 said : " My God ! On this day hast tliou blest 
 mo unutterably ! " 
 
 The Baroness had no strength to rise. Gus- 
 tavus joyfully took her in his arms and gently 
 laid her upon a sofa. Ho knelt near, and 
 drawing the locket from his bosom, opened it 
 and said : " Do you kno^y this picture ? " 
 
 " Great God ! " she cried, " that is tlio locket 
 j I hung upon thy neck the very day on which 
 thou wort first dcpriyed of thy mother's care." 
 
 " Yes, that is the dear jewel which has again 
 united me to my beloved mother. my moth- 
 er, for how much must I not thank this picture ! 
 It has been the talisman wliich has protected 
 mo in peril, encouraged mo in every struggle, 
 and incited mo to press ever omvard toward a 
 higher goal. God told mo it was my mother. 
 I never doubted it for one moment. 0, 1 knew 
 you long before this meeting ! You may now 
 j understand how I came to represent you so ac- 
 curately in my picture.'.' 
 
 15* 
 
174 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 " Yes, T ceo ; wliilo ztWl unknown to cac 
 ot]icr, tin powor of lovo lias inystcrioudy 
 watched over and l^etween iis. I ako am con- 
 scious of no moment in whicli I have not 
 thouglit of tlicc, but in fact, chiefly tliat I 
 miglit become accustomed to seek thee only 
 amoni^ the angels in heaven. Ah, my son, 
 the toars I have shed for thee and tliy dear 
 father are more than could be counted ! " 
 
 " And my father ? " asked Gustavus, with a 
 dight tremor in his voice. 
 
 " 0, tliat ho were among us to enjoy this day! 
 Eut he is looking down upon us from tlic hab- 
 itations of peace. He is no more. The day on 
 Avliich I lost thee, cost him his life. 
 
 The Baroness wept. Gustavus sought to 
 console her, and fervently covered her hand 
 witli the most tender kisses. 
 
 ^' My clilldren," said the Count, " not now 
 Lhesc sad remembrances ; tlie joy of the pres- 
 ent is so great that we would be ungrateful 
 were we only to think how we could still in- 
 crease our happiness. We are all too deeply 
 moved. Without, in the fresh air, under tho 
 green trees, wo will foci more coioposod. Guo- 
 
THE YOUNG PAIXTKR, 
 
 175 
 
 tavus sliall tlicrc rclato to r.s all the occurren- 
 ces, great and small, of his eveiitrul life. You 
 will tlicnco sec, my beloved daugliter, lliat thou 
 hast not only found a son, but a -worthy, cncr- 
 ptic, upright, and noble son ! " 
 
 Thoy went into Vaq garden, the mother loan- 
 ing on Gustavus's arm. There, by turns vralk- 
 ing in the sliadow of t]ie lofty chestnuts, cr 
 sitting on the garden seats, ihcy suffered their 
 most cherished memories to flow forth in the 
 full stream cf love and heartfelt confidence. 
 Gustavus related the story of his life, and tlie 
 warmth Avith wdiich he spoke of his benefactors, 
 the lionest Braun, the upriglit Iluber, and the 
 noblo Roland, showed that happiness had only 
 elevated and ennobled the best feelings cf his 
 soul. We may imagine liovr attentively the 
 mother listened. With the utmost tenderness 
 she hung upon his every vrord, now interrupt- 
 ing him with loving questions, now caressingly 
 stroking his handsome head, tlien kissing him 
 vrith lier soul upon her lips, and then again 
 sliedding tears of fervent gratitude and jov. 
 Could one imaij^inc a hiixher deliii'ht for a moth- 
 or, than thus to see unfolded before her eyes 
 
17G THE YOUNG TAIXTER. 
 
 the l)looniing and liopcful life of a co:i wli 
 sli3 liad long wept as dead, and v/lio v/a; 
 restored to licr loving arms ? 
 
 The news of tlie wonderful event whicli had 
 taken -place in the Count's palace ran llkd 
 llghtnhig through tlie whole city. The in- 
 timate friends of the family came to learn 
 the truth, and to offer tlieir congratulations. 
 Gustavus, now Baron von Adlersbcrg, and 
 heir to a large property, was tlie hero of th3 
 day. Many had previously admired liis genius; 
 to this Avas novf added tlie lustre of a distin- 
 guished name and groat wealth. 
 
 Among the rest came Roland. The Count 
 had previously sent him a sum of a thousand 
 dollars to be divided among sucli young artists 
 as he should think most deserving. Tho 
 painter came to thank him. He was received 
 witli open arms. After heartily embracing 
 Gustavus, he took him aside, and said, — 
 
 How is it ? Will you now turn your 
 back on tliat art Avhich 3^ou have to thank 
 for a great barony and a happy home ? " 
 
 *' No, indeed ! " replied the young man. 
 " That would be the blackest hi<?ratitudo ! 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 177 
 
 On the contrary, I will licnccfortli bo only 
 £0 much tho moro her grateful and devoted 
 ATOrsliippcr." 
 
 " That is right," said Roland, " that is just 
 what I expected. Believe me, art is still luorCJi 
 more than a title and a full purse ! " 
 
 " I know that ! " cried Gustavus. They 
 cordially pressed each other's hands. They 
 had mutually understood each other's souls. 
 
 In the evening, when the happy trio again 
 found themselves alone together, Gustavus 
 caid : " Now, dear mother, grant my prayer, 
 and tell me all the circumstances that have 
 caused our lives to be so sadly and strangely 
 sundered." 
 
 "Alas, my son, it is a melancholy history I 
 But thou art riglit ; thou shalt hear all. Wo 
 shall feel freer and easier when wo have once 
 looked the dark past steadily in the face." 
 
 The Baroness leaned back a few moments 
 on her sofa, as if to recover her self-possession ; 
 Gustavus sat on a stool at her feet, and a little 
 apart t!ie old man had fallen asleep in his 
 arm-chair. 
 
 " It was," began the Baroness, " during tho 
 
178 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 year 1811 that I first learned to know thy 
 father, the Baron von Adlcrsbcrg. IIo liad 
 been sent to oii^r court in Dresden by the King 
 of Westphalia. His handsome person, noble 
 licart, and cultivated mind attracted me to- 
 Avard him. Our love was mutual, and, with 
 my father's consent, I became his wife." 
 
 " Do you know, dear mother, that I am do- 
 lighted to learn that my father Avas a nativo 
 of the country in which I have had my own 
 growth 'and education. I should feel really 
 sorry to be forced to regard any other land 
 as my fatlierland, or to bear a foreign name. 
 My foster-father and I both thought I must 
 be the son of a French officer." 
 
 "No, my son, tliy father was a German; 
 but like many of his countrymen, he rever- 
 enced the rising star of the great Emperor 
 wliose powerful genius at that time swayed 
 tlie destinies of Europe. He had already ac- 
 companied Napoleon through several victori- 
 ous campaigns, and had risen to the rank of 
 a colonel. Ilis knowledge and ability had 
 rendered his offices necessary in the adjust- 
 ment of tlio kingdom cf AVestphalia, and he 
 
TIIK YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 179 
 
 liad boon tomporarilj witliclrawu from active 
 Gcrvico. During that timo 1 became his Avifo ; 
 ■Nvo lived at Casiicl ; one happy year quickly 
 passed ; thy birth filled us both with unspcak- 
 abb joy ; we were so lost in our own happi- 
 ness, that wo did not see the clouds gathering 
 upon our horizon. The destruction of the 
 great French army in Russia soon followed ; 
 Germany and half the world again lifted their 
 heads and reasserted their independence. 
 There was an immediate and extraordinary 
 call to arms ; my husband, among the rat, 
 was forced to resume the svrord. AYe parted ; 
 I, with a bleeding and ill-divining heart, re- 
 mained behind. The struggle raged on, tlio 
 fiercest struggle known to modern times. At 
 first came news of victory ; by degrees the 
 bulletins became loss and loss hopeful. The 
 French army Avas driven nearer and nearer 
 to Saxony ; my husband's letters ceased to 
 reach me. I was in despair. Had he been 
 wounded ? Was ho dead ? I knew not ; I 
 could not fly to him to watch over him if 
 living; or if dead, to weep beside his graA-e. 
 Finally a letter came ; only a foAV lines, an- 
 
180 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 nouiicing that tho French army had concen- 
 trated near Leipsic, and that a decisive battle 
 was expected. My heart beat with joy ; he 
 was still alive. But at tho same time a fever- 
 is-i longing arose in my soul to see him, or ai 
 bast to bo near him. Thou seest it was mad- 
 ness for a weak woman to leave the peaceful 
 circle of her homo and venture out amid tho 
 tumultuous waves of that wild storm of na- 
 tions. But love does not consider, — will lis- 
 ton to no reason ; it only follows tlie blind in- 
 stincts of tho heart. One morning I ordered 
 my carriage and entered it vrith thee, for it 
 would have been impossible for me to bavo 
 thee behind. I camo to Hallo, and there wo 
 heard tho distant, stifled roll of the heavy ar- 
 tillery. Two days passed in death-like sue- 
 ponso and agony. Tho most contradictory 
 rumors met our cars ; now it was the French 
 Avho were victorious, and then the Allied ar- 
 mios. I could no longer endure the tortures 
 of uncertainty. I determined to be at least 
 nearer to that spot where every bulb', miglit 
 perhaps bo aimed at my husband's heart. 
 On the unfortunate 18th of October, I lefc 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTEK. 181 
 
 Ilallo, and slowly, but as if drawn by como 
 unseen power, proceeded on my w^ay to Leipsic. 
 Tlic coachman wished to return, but I reiused, 
 and commanded liim onward. A false report, 
 received from come French soldiers galloping 
 past us, that the Emperor was triumphant, in- 
 creased my self-delusion. I approached within 
 about a mile and a half of Leipsic, but there 
 — to my horror — I met the first columns of 
 the llying French army. In frantic haste they 
 stormed past us. The confusion became every 
 moment greater. The road was blocked up 
 with cannon and baggage-w^agons ; I could 
 neither advance nor recede. My carriage Avas 
 thrust aside, and sank with its hind wdieels in 
 a ditch. The horses attached to a cannon fell ; 
 mine were at once unharnessed and seized up- 
 on. Innumerable bands of men fled by me, 
 but no one thought of me ; one sole idea fdled 
 every mind, — to press onward as rapidly as 
 possible. Cut the horror was doomed still 
 further to increase. The position seemed a 
 favorable one for some columns of the Guard 
 to station themselves, and cover the rear of 
 the flying army. Gustavus ! I soon found 
 IG. 
 
182 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 myself in a raging combat. A regiment of 
 cavalry rod 3 rapidly past; tlio bullets Avliistled 
 round my dofonccbss bead. My eye suddenly 
 fell upon ono dctacbmcnt of the caA'alry ; a 
 single horseman led thom on. It vras he, — 
 my husband ! As if stricken by lightning, I 
 sprang up ; my eyes stared after him, my arms 
 Avere outspread toward him. But he did not 
 see me ; wit!i a loud and menacing voice lie 
 gave his orders. Holy Fatlier in heaven ! 
 Suddenly he fell ; a ball had struck him. 
 Like an arrow I sprang from the carriage. 
 How I reached him through tlie tumult of 
 battle and tlie close ranks of the combatants, 
 is still a mystery to me. I can remember 
 nothing, except that, with a cry of horror, I 
 fell upon him, and flung my arms about his 
 neck ; all consciousness then left me." 
 
 Overpowered by these fearful memories, the 
 Baroness could no longer continue. She 
 buried her face in the sofa-cushions, and gave 
 free vent to her emotions. Gustavus had 
 listened with breathless attention, and at tliis 
 moment cried out : " Wonderful ! vronder- 
 ful ! All this has often passed in darkened 
 images before my inward vision." 
 
TUT. YOUXG TAIXTER. 
 
 183 
 
 Tvlicn tlio motlicr had eomcwliat recovered 
 her £cl>coiitrol, lIio lifted licr head, and said : 
 
 Yes, tell mo, my son, liow was it possible 
 for thee to represent that fearful scene in thy 
 picture, so nearly as it really occinTcd ? " 
 
 "It may have been an inspiration from 
 above to reunite us," replied Gustavus. " And 
 then could it have been otherwise? Could I, 
 a feeble child, be found upon a battle-field 
 u:ilcss my mother had brought luc there ? 
 And wh'^t could have severed her from my 
 tide, if not the power of some stronger affec- 
 tion rendering her insensible to danger, and 
 excluding everything except itself ? Hovr 
 probabb the thought that it could only be 
 t!i3 sight of her husband's peril which could 
 tear the mother from her child. Among all 
 t!i3 possibilities which passed through my 
 mind, tliis seemed to me the most tiu3 to 
 nature and tlie dearest. Thus, from a chain 
 of probable suppositions and plausible conclu- 
 sions, arose my picture. It was God's Vv^ll 
 tliat I should have divined aright. But con- 
 thiue, dearest mother ; I burn with desire to 
 know -all that followed." - . . 
 
184 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 " I liavo but little moro to add," replied tli 
 Baroness. " Thy father was severely wounded. 
 But his faithful followers, who were fervently 
 devoted to him, were not willing that he should 
 die on the battle-field, or fall into the hands 
 of tlie enemy. They laid him, as well as my- 
 self, for I was still unconscious, upon a bag- 
 gage-wagon, and, soon after, the retreat was 
 slowly and in good order continued. I finally 
 recovered my senses. My first thought was 
 my child ! My heart-rending cries moved even 
 the rough soldiers lying wounded Avith mo 
 upon tlie wagon. I would have sprung out ; 
 they held me back. It would liave been easier 
 to have swam against a rushing mountain tor- 
 rent, than through that dense retreat to have 
 reached the place where I had left thee. Thy 
 father's hot and feverish grasp held my hands 
 fast bound in his ; his dim and dying eyes were 
 fixed upon my face, and a fauit smile upon 
 liis lips betrayed that he had recognized me. 
 Gustavus, I saw him die before my eyes. 1 
 cannot understand why I did not then die 
 too, but God willed that I should still live on 
 and suffer. After a few .days wo reached 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTEK.' 
 
 Erfurth. My husband's faithful body-servant 
 had assumed the caro and protection of liis 
 master's wifo. I there fell into a nervous 
 fever. During several weeks I lay a prey to 
 the wildest delirium. I recovered ; but it 
 was three months before I was strong enough 
 to leave my room. My first journey Avas to- 
 ward the place where a frightful destiny 
 seemed to liavc deprived me of every joy in 
 life. I could scarcely recognize tlic place ; 
 it Avas covered Avith a tliick and melancholy 
 veil of snow. Ah, Avhat efforts I made ! How 
 many thousand means did I employ to discoA'cr 
 thee ! All in vain 1 Finally, I buried thee 
 in my heart Avith my beloA'cd dead. I Avith- 
 drcAV in the deepest solitude to one of my 
 husband's estates, and there, through a long 
 night of sorroAv, Avept over my brief dream 
 of happiness. 
 
 ^' And henceforth ? " cried GustaA'us, tender- 
 ly folding his arms around his mother's neck. 
 
 " Ilenceforth I Avill be more cheerful ! J 
 Avill again live my life in thee ! '^ 
 
 Mother and son remained long locked in a 
 client embrace. Tlien aAvokc the old man, avIio 
 
 16* 
 
18G 
 
 TnE TOrXG PAn^TETl. 
 
 gazed upon tlicm with a look of iinutterabb 
 love, and finally said: "Do you know, my 
 cliildrcn, what is now our first duty ? Grat- 
 itude ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! joyfully cried Gustavus. 
 We must now thank those kind people to 
 whom we owe far more than we can ever 
 repay." 
 
 " You mean. Father Braun and good Master 
 Iluber!" 
 
 " Exactly so. I think you had both better 
 go and visit them." 
 
 "Delightful! charming!" cried GustaTus. 
 " And you, dear mother, will you not accom- 
 pany me ? " 
 
 " Canst thou doubt it ? Must I not tell them 
 they have made me the happiest mother in the 
 world?" 
 
 The next day but one was fixed for the de- 
 parture of mother and son upon their journey. 
 
CnAPTER X. 
 
 ALL 'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 
 
 We again find Gustavus in Brcslau, whither 
 ho was accompanied by his motlier. Of course 
 he visited the worthy pastor and the excellent 
 police officer, who, after his flight from Feld- 
 herg's, had shown him such real kindness and 
 sympathy. Their reception was hearty, and. 
 their joy great, when he imparted to them the 
 sudden and happy turn which his fortunes liad 
 taken. 
 
 But we must not so hastily pass over his visit 
 to Huber. He purposely chose an evening hour, 
 because he knew that the master would then 
 be at liome. He preferred entering tlie family, 
 in which he liad passed so many happy days as 
 son and brother, simply as Gustavus. For ho 
 justly fjarcd that his ncwiiapio aucl,.po§itipiL 
 
188 
 
 THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 might create some strangeness and embarrass- 
 ment between himself and these simple peoplj. 
 Tlic announcement of the last important event 
 in his life Avas intrusted to a letter to be bft 
 with tliem at his departure. It was already 
 . dusk when ho knocked at tlie well-known door. 
 The master called out : Come in ! " Gusta- 
 Tus entered, and once more, with the old heart 
 and the old love, stood in the cozy little room 
 among those kind, good people. He joyfully 
 bade them good evening. 
 
 Merciful Heaven ! " cried the mistress. 
 " That is Gustavus ! 
 
 The master rose quickly from his ceat and 
 flung his pipe aside. 
 
 "What! Gustavus?" cried he. "Truly, 
 it is he. Welcome, a thousand times welcome, 
 my dear, good boy ! " 
 
 Embrace now followed embrace. The chil- 
 dren came too, and soon joyfully surrounded 
 their unforgotten brother. Only the eldest 
 daugliter, now grown up into a pretty maiden 
 of some sixteen years, stood half ashamed at a 
 little distance, and blushed as Gustavus kissed 
 her blooming cheek. 
 
THE TOU^G PAINTER. 
 
 180; 
 
 Hubcr, with all his fliioncy, seemed as if ho 
 could never sufficiently express liis joy. 
 
 The thousand ! cried he, how tlic lad 
 lias grown ! Wlien I think of him as he fir^t 
 came to ns, — and now ho is a full head taller. 
 And how straight and strong he looks ! That is 
 a youth after God's own heart. And he looks 
 distinguished too, like a young nobleman ! 
 
 There is no telling how long he might havo 
 continued in this strain, had net the mother 
 interrupted him, saying: "But fatlnr, art 
 thou not going to ask our dear young guest to 
 sit down ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, yes ; ho must sit down ; here, 
 in this comfortable corner. Mother ! this is 
 a real festive evening. Bring out the best thou 
 liast. And don't forget a flask of good wine ; 
 for this my son — I had nearly said — was 
 lost and has been found again. No, not loitl 
 But returned ! The young, aspiring artist, lan- 
 ded by all the papers, has not forgotten the old 
 and unknown wall-painter, John Hubcr ! " 
 
 " 0, I never feared that ! " said the mother; 
 
 I knew Gustavus would never forget us." 
 . "AJiliousaad thanks ibi*. 3;Loui:.kmd.jopiuioD- 
 
THE TOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 of mo ! " cried Giistaviis. " I return to you 
 the same as of old ! " 
 
 " The same as of old ? " exclaimed Ilubcr. 
 " No, thou every day bccomest something new. 
 Gustavus, what all hast thou not become since 
 thou left us. I saw thy picture at the lato 
 exhibition. That ivas a picture ! When I 
 looked at it, bright tears ran down my cheeks. 
 1 went there twenty times, only to see what 
 great eyes the people made. I did so long to 
 cry out and tell them all that thou hadst once 
 been my scholar. But nobody would have 
 believed me." 
 
 Did I not tell tliec," said Mrs. Huber, 
 " that Gustavus had been created for better 
 things ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! And thou wert right. Thou 
 art always right ! " he added, smiling. " I, 
 too, knew that he could not remain a mcro 
 wall-painter ; but then it grieved me so when 
 ho wanted to leave us ! " 
 
 ^' Ye kind, good friends : " cried Gustavus. 
 
 Say no more ; yo Avill spoil me. If I were 
 proud and arrogant, it would really be your 
 lliulti. ^ Haw, is., it naw.^?. adidcd, .lie, . iafter a 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 101 
 
 momentary pause, — " liow h it with 3'our 
 business, master ? I hope it is as good as 
 ever ! " 
 
 God bo praised, yes ! Thy drawings, Gus- 
 tavus, w^erc a real blessing to me. Wherever 
 I used them, every one Avas delighted. Every 
 one insisted upon having rooms and halls 
 painted after those patterns." 
 
 " Well, they must bo nearly exliaustod. If 
 you like, you shall liave some new ones." 
 
 " What, thou couldst ? . . . . But no ! Thy 
 talent is much too lofty, thy time too pre- 
 cious — " 
 
 " Say no more," interrupted Gustavus. 
 " Would it, then, be something so very ex- 
 traordinary once more to return to one's old 
 occupation, especially when one receives sucli 
 excellent testimonials of ability ? Besides, I 
 have now abundance of time." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 I am going to look a little about mo in the 
 world." 
 
 "What, hast thou no fixed residence ? " 
 " Not for the present. I am now in Bres- 
 lau, visiting my old friends. In a few days I 
 
192 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTEK, 
 
 am going among tlio mountains to ceo my dear 
 Fatlier Braun." 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " Then, master, I liopo to roalizo an old and 
 lioavcnlj, lovely dream. I expect to xkii 
 Italy." 
 
 Gustavus, Giistaviis, the muses must liav3 
 been very kind to theo." 
 
 " Yes, every earthly blessing lias been 
 vouchsafed to my unworthy self." 
 Come, tell us, toll us I " 
 Not now ; you shall hereafter know cvcry- 
 tliing ; but all 1 can tell you now is, that 
 Heaven has blessed me unspeakably." 
 
 Tlius continued the conversation. Gustavus 
 told of his artist life in Dresden, played witli 
 the children, and questioned Mrs. Huber con- 
 cerning all the little events of a household 
 life. An excellent supper, at which a flask of 
 noble wine was not wanting, increased the 
 general hilarity, and it was late before Gus- 
 tavus rose to depart. Tlie good mother Avas 
 quite unwilling he should leave them, as she 
 had already prepared a bed for him in his 
 former little room. But he was not to be per- 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 193 
 
 suadocl to rcmai!!. AYhcii parting at tlic outer 
 door witli liis old master, Gustavus pressed a 
 letter into the kind hand which clung to liis zo 
 cordially, and eeemed so loath to suffer him tj 
 depart. 
 
 Wc will remain behind a few moments with 
 tho house-painter's family. The father soon 
 returned to the sitting-room ; old and young 
 were still assembled, for the general joy had 
 kept the little ones awake. 
 
 " Gustavus has put a letter into my hand," 
 said Huber, " and I must see at once what it 
 means." 
 
 He went to the light, opened tlie paper and 
 read ; and the more ho read, the more aston- 
 ishment did his countenance express. 
 
 ^' What is this ? " cried he. " Braun not 
 my father, — lost child, — battle of Leipsic, 
 — mother found, — Baron von Adlcrsbcrg ! 
 Listen mother ; listen cliildren ! " cried he 
 suddenly. '-It is really wonderful ! listen to 
 what Gustavus writes ! " 
 
 Motlier and cliildren, all filled with anxious 
 expectation and curiosity, pressed round the 
 father, while he read aloud Gustavus's letter 
 
 17 
 
194 
 
 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 containing a condensed account of the singular 
 and fortunate unfolding of liis destiny. Tho 
 letter concluded thus : — 
 
 " Pardon mo, dear master, that I havo 
 chosen this mode of informing you of all that 
 has befallen me. But I Avished to appear 
 among you only as Gustavus, and show you 
 that the old heart full of love and gratitude 
 was still beating within my breast. But I 
 could not entirely withhold from you tho 
 knowledge of this great change in my circum- 
 stances, for you have a right to rejoice in all 
 my joy. Retain for me your old affection, as 
 mine for you can never fade from my bosom. 
 Regarding my mother's enclosure, I have only 
 to add, tliat you must by no means consider 
 it in tho light of gratitude, but merely as a 
 proof of her desire to render the future paths 
 of your children as easy and agreeable as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 When Huber opened the sealed enclosure, 
 a note for throe tliousand dollars foil out of 
 it. Within were written simply tho followii)g 
 words : — 
 
 " Tho money is for your children. May 
 
THE YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 195 
 
 they ever tread in tlie footsteps of tlicir excel- 
 lent ])arcnts ! But for you is the grateful 
 lieart of a happy mother ! " 
 
 Wo will leave the good painter's family to 
 their astonishment, their joy, their heartfelt 
 expressions of affection toward Gustavus, and 
 return to the youno- man, whom a few days 
 later we find with his mother on the vray to 
 Heichenthal. 
 
 As long as this little village had been in ex- 
 istence, never had it witnessed an event similar 
 to that which took place one fine summer after- 
 noon, in the 3'ear 183-. A coach and four 
 rolled past the lowly huts and cottages, and 
 the post-horn blew such a blast that all the 
 mountains echoed. Young and old ran to the 
 windows or out into the street ; the coach 
 rolled past the church, the parsonage, the 
 school ; ever up the hill, whence all, however, 
 knew that the only roads leading further were 
 mere wood-paths. 
 
 Finally, the equipage stopped before the 
 forester's door. Braun's hounds bayed ; the 
 mistress of the house gazed astonished over the 
 humble railing. A handsome young man 
 
196 THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 sprang out of tlio carriage, and running up to^ 
 her, shook licr heartily hy the hand. 
 
 " God bless you, mother ! " cried he, in ten- 
 der and affectionate tones. She stood as if 
 rooted to the earth, gazing in amazement upon 
 the youth, who seemed to her so strange, and 
 yet so familiar. 
 
 " What," cried she, finally, " Gustavus ? " 
 
 ^' Yes, I am he." 
 
 Iler face beamed with delight. 
 
 " God be praised that thou, — that you aro 
 once more here. How glad I am ; and ho^ 
 my good husband will rejoice ! " 
 
 " Where is the father ? " 
 
 " In the wood." 
 
 Then calling a brisk little lad to her side, 
 she said : " Run, Christy, run for thy father ! 
 Thou knowest where he is, down by the last 
 wood that was cut. Tell him to come at once, 
 there are guests here ! " 
 
 The lad ran as if winged by the winds. 
 Meanwhile, Gustavus's mother had also left 
 the carriage, and cordially greeted the forest- 
 er's Avife, who seemed utterly bcwilclcrv3d 
 with the distinguished air and elegance of 
 
THE YOUNG PAINTER. 
 
 ~ 197 
 
 this strango apparition. She drew timidly 
 l)ack, and Gustaviis, Avho wished to reassure 
 lier, took licr aside, and cmilingly caid to 
 her : " Mother, how is it ? Are you satisfied 
 with mo now ? " 
 
 " Ah ! Gustavus, of what do you remind 
 me?" 
 
 " Not you^ but thou, should you say to me. 
 Else I will tliink you are not glad to see me, 
 and that you wish me away again." 
 
 "Well, if thou wilt have it so! — When 
 I think how often I treated thee badly, how 
 often I scolded thee, and did not love tlieo 
 as I should have done, then I am so an- 
 gry with myself. Ah ! canst thou forgive 
 me?" 
 
 " Mother, say no more of that ; and if you 
 indeed love me a little, let me never hear you 
 speak such another word. Think only how 
 you wept when I went away, how you filled 
 my bundle with new, clean clothes ! That 
 stands for ever graven on my heart ! " 
 
 The forester's wife now invited her guests 
 to enter tlie house ; but Gustavus said they 
 would prefer remaining in the open air until 
 17* 
 
198 
 
 THE YOUXG PAINTER. 
 
 Brau:i returned. Tlio good woman tlippcd 
 away, probably to excliaiigo licr cvcry-day gar- 
 monts for otbers more suited to the reception 
 of sucli distinguished guests. 
 
 Dearest mother," said Gustavus, as he bJ 
 the way into the garden, " let me show you 
 tiie favorite places of my childhood ! Look, on 
 this barn-door I made my first essays in art. 
 Time and rough Avcather have washed them all 
 away ! But no ! There is still the crest of tlic 
 stately knight Avhom it gave me such unutter- 
 able satisfaction to counterfeit. And there, 
 too, are the donkey's cars and the traveller's 
 hood. Under those wide-spreading pear-trees 
 I have often, for hours together, lain in blissful 
 reverie. I remember well how a finch had 
 once built his nest on one of the lower 
 branches. It was a real delight to watch how 
 t!ie old fed their young, and how gay and 
 sprightly the whole little household seemed to 
 be. That apple-tree I planted myself. Only 
 see, tliere are seven or eight golden applco 
 shining tlirough tlie leaves." 
 
 They left the garden and entered Iho 
 wood. 
 
THS YOUNG PAIN'TER. 
 
 103 
 
 All, mother ! cried Gustavus, *' these 
 nohlo oaks and elms furnished me with the 
 f:ccnc of my happiest games and dreams. Here, 
 0:1 this very spot, whence the eye takes in the 
 ■\vholo broad valley, I often sat and dreamed, 
 gazing into the far blue distance. The myste- 
 rious forcshado wings which then filled my 
 bosom have all since been most strangely and 
 most gloriously fulfilled." 
 
 At that moment, Gustavus heard a rustling 
 ill the bushes behind him. He turned. Brauii 
 Etood before him. One spring, and the youth 
 was locked in his arms. " Father ! " " Gus- 
 ta\us! " was all these two happy souls could 
 utter. When the first emotion had somewhat 
 subsided, and the long embrace was loosened, 
 Braun's eyes fell inquiringly upon Gustavus's 
 companion. The youth took her hand, and 
 loading her to Braun, said : ^' Father, look, 
 this is my mother ! Dost thou hear, I liavo 
 found my mother ! " 
 
 The Baroness seized the forester's hands, 
 pressed tliein to her heart, and cried : " Thou 
 ^avioiir of my Gustavus ! Noble, true, and 
 excellent inau ! 3Iy.;lips. ^ro. .tog.X-QWo. te, 
 
200 
 
 Tna YOUNG rAINTER. 
 
 express tli3 gratitude welling from mj happy 
 lieart. God will reward tliee ! " 
 
 Braiiii uncovered his head, looked piously 
 heavenward, and said : " My God, thou art 
 indeed great ! 
 
 They then proceeded dowly toward tlis 
 house, where they found the good damo 
 and lier children in full state. That was a 
 happy day in the forester's home. Gustavus 
 related everything as it had happened, and 
 Brauu was often forced involuntarily to ex- 
 claim : "Lord, thou hast done all things 
 well ! " 
 
 Late in the evening, Gustavus caid to 
 the forestar : " And thou must accom- 
 pany us, father ! I cannot again part from 
 thee ! " 
 
 " No, thou hadst better leave me here ! I 
 should be entirely out of place in thy nobb 
 society, among thy distinguised relatives. I 
 am too old to learn new ways. Here, in the 
 forest, among the hills, is my place, witli my 
 bucks and does. If thou wilt only always love 
 me, and sometimes let me hear from thoc. I 
 shall bo entirely satisfio^l.'' . 
 
THE YOUNG TAINTER. 
 
 201- 
 
 " But liow, ii tliou wcrt to bo licad-forcst- 
 cr ? " 
 
 " How so ? Ilcad-forcstcr ? " 
 
 " Yes, to mj motlicr. Slio lias a forest that 
 extends over lialf a square mile ! Oaks and 
 firs that three men could not span ; deer, stags, 
 rocs, wild boars, and pheasants in such abun^ 
 dance that they would delight thy heart ! And 
 then a house for the head-forester in the very 
 centre of the wood ; in the stable, two fine 
 horses ; and on the meadow, twelve Swiss 
 cows, with tinkling bells. Ilcy ! will not that 
 content thee, father ? " 
 
 Braun's honest heart boat with joy. 
 
 " AgTC:)d," cried ho. " I consent. I am 
 yours, body and soul ! That will be a life ! " 
 
 'We must hero end our talo. Gustavus, dur- 
 ing the following year, Avent with his mother 
 to Italy, where ho more and more perfected 
 himself in his cliosen art, to which he was 
 never, for a single moment, faithless. His 
 paintings, glorious testimonials of the beauty 
 and depth of his soul, were the delight of his 
 coutcmporarics, and will bear his uamc to 
 
202 
 
 THE TOCNG PAINTEK. 
 
 future generations with honor and reverence- 
 Braun's family removed to the estates of t]io 
 Baroness, where, in the most delightful rela- 
 tions with the inhabitants of the chateau, thej 
 bd a happy and contented life. 
 
F I D D L E II A N N S . 
 
FIDDLEIIANNSV 
 
 • '■''fs'-is-vj,,,. 
 
 One beautiful summer evening:, t ^cll- 
 dressed young man entered the public rcom of 
 the inn known as " The Eagle," in a Silesian 
 market-town. He had juet dismounted from 
 his horse, which he had recommended to the 
 special care of the host. With an air of aris- 
 tocratic indifference, he flung his riding-whip 
 and cap upon tlie table, and took a rapid survey 
 of the assembled company. 
 
 It consisted of the host, of the bailiff of the 
 estate on which the town was situated, of tho 
 schoolmaster, and the district judge ; conse- 
 quently, of the chief personages of the market- 
 town. The host stood, cap in hand, before tho 
 stranger, and with the most submissive courto- 
 
 18 
 
6 
 
 riDDLEIIANXS. 
 
 rj asked the commands of the " gracious lord," 
 as li3 was pleased to term the unknown gncst. 
 He had, at the first glance, convinced himself 
 cf the faultless beauty of the new-comer's horse, 
 its value had been quickly calculated, and ho 
 had thence deduced the probable weight cf the 
 owner's purse ; an all-sufficient reason for the 
 excessive attention he stood ready to bestow 
 upon the traveller. 
 
 While lie was tlius engaged, the baililT, the 
 schoolmaster, and the judge had- dr-awn a little 
 closer together, and were cxchangiiig various 
 remarks upon the stranger, vrith sundry guesses 
 as to what had led him from the great high- 
 ways to their little, unfrequented town. 
 
 They listened attentively to every word that 
 f jll from his lips, and when he said to the host : 
 " A glass of wine, but of the best ! " they con- 
 cluded from his accent that he was no Silesian. 
 
 The host bro'ught the wine, and although tlio 
 vintage failed to please the stranger, the host 
 appeared quite indifferent, as the guest said in 
 a disparaging tone : " The wine is good enough 
 for this neighborhood ; one must cut one's coat 
 according to one's cloth. You, gentlemen, aro 
 
FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 ? 
 
 probably from tho villago," continuod tbc; trav- 
 cllor, turning to Vaq other giiosts, or, ratlior, 
 I should sa}^ from tho city," added lie, cor- 
 recting liimself with a smile. 
 
 ^'Thc market-town, with your lordship's per- 
 mission," replied the schoolmaster and tlie 
 judge, who on being addressed had quickly and 
 reverentially risen from their scats ; the baililf 
 followed their example, but somewhat more de- 
 liberately, that he might yield no portion of 
 his dignity. 
 
 " You can, then, probably tell me something 
 about my cousin, old Baron Hammerstone ; he 
 must lead a curious sort of a hermit's life in 
 his old fortress of a castle. Is it indeed true, 
 that he is now entirely invisible to every one ? " 
 
 This was a matter in which tho bailiff felt 
 himself quite at homo. Having learned that 
 a relative of his master's stood before him, 
 he suddenly became more gracious than be- 
 fore. Slirugging his shoulders and assuming a 
 tliouglitful mien, he replied: It is indeed a 
 fact, your lordship. The older the Baron 
 grows, the less will he know of mankind ; yes, 
 I really think he has taken up a hatred to tho 
 whole world." 
 
8 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 But Avlij so ? Has lie had any especial 
 cause to do so ? " said the stranger. 
 
 No one knows," replied the bailiff. " Tho 
 Baron is so now, and Ave cannot change him. 
 It is a great pity he should be possessed by such 
 a crazy wliini, — I had almost said, — I meant 
 to say singular fancy. Our gracious lord is so 
 really good, that whenever he can help any 
 one, he does it most willingly, and with both 
 hands full." 
 
 " Every one in the town knows that," here 
 interrupted the schoolmaster, who as he pro- 
 ceeded became quite enthusiastic ; ^' you would 
 hardly believe how deeply in debt our commu- 
 nity was some thirty years ago, when the Baron 
 bought the Lordship, and — without vanity bo 
 it spoken — how many rogues we had among 
 us. I well remember how my blessed prede- 
 cessor in tlie school, Avhile I was only his as- 
 sistant, once had his cow stolen from its stall, 
 and how the next day the thieves' children 
 brouglit him tlie poor creature's tail, because 
 his old cowdvin was rather the worse for wear; 
 the old man was so indignant that he never re- 
 covered the shock, and soon after died. I, too, 
 
FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 9 
 
 found it bad cnongli in tlic beginning, altliougli 
 wc had a brace of rascals in tlio stocks every 
 week. But now, look at our community ! 
 Everything is entirely changed ! That we have 
 no more debts, we must thank our gracious 
 lord's kindness and generosity ; but we liave a 
 Et'iW deeper cause for gratitude to him, which 
 is, that our townspeople are now all upright 
 and excellent men. He taught by his own 
 good example, and mild and considerate as he 
 was to all who without any fault of their own 
 had fallen into trouble, just so severe was he 
 toward every rascal. In short, he has the best 
 heart in the world, and it is a thousand pities 
 he sliould have become so misanthropic.'* 
 
 ^' I must, however, believe that my excellent 
 cousin was not always thus?" remarked tlio 
 F-tranger in an inquiring tone. 
 
 " Your lordship is quite right," replied the 
 bailiff. 
 
 " At first, it was not quite so bad ; still, he 
 had a slight attack of this same indisposition, 
 if we may so call it, at the time when he first 
 purchased this property, and set the old castle 
 in order. During the first few days, hg Uad 
 
10 FIDDLEHAXXS. 
 
 now chains put to the drawbridgo ; sinco then, 
 it has always bocu kept up, and tlic old lord 
 remains within his castle as if it were a bclong- 
 iierod stronghold. During the first few years, 
 all had free access to him, at least every Sun- 
 day ; he then listened attentively to every com- 
 plaint, and was ever ready to give money, good 
 counsel, or consolation. ]n those days he kept 
 a cook, a huntsman, and a serving woman. 
 But since his marriage, tlicy have every one 
 been discharged." 
 
 " How is that ? " cried the cousin in surprise. 
 *' I had not heard a word of any marriage. 
 Since my fifteenth year I have been in the Eng- 
 lish service, at a great distance from this her- 
 mitage, — namely, in the East Indies; and, 
 besides, I never had the pleasure of meeting 
 the Baron face to face. From what noble 
 house, then, has my cousin taken a spouse ? " 
 
 She was born Countess Strahling," replied 
 tlie bailiff, who now seemed to be in the full 
 tide of his eloquence. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! you are still a young man, 
 gracious sir, and the Baron is nearly seventy ; 
 of course you would not know him, having been 
 
FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 11 
 
 60 long absent. T!i3 story of liis marriage is a 
 very strange one. One morning when as u?ual 
 I knocked upon tli3 drawbridge, the Baron 
 himself lowered it, and I entered the lower 
 conrt-yard ; he was dressed in his handsomest 
 Sunday suit. It was a real pleasure to look at 
 him. 
 
 " ' Resell ! ' said he to mo (that is my name), — 
 * Resell, go down to the town, order my horses 
 at once, for I will go out ; and tell the pastor 
 to be in the castle chapol at four o'clock pre- 
 cisely.' — ' At your Grace's command ! ' re- 
 plied I, turning away to execute my commis- 
 sion. In a few moments the horses were har- 
 nessed ; the Baron jumped into the carriage 
 and drove o'T ; iho pastor got ready, and at 
 four o'clock stood with me in the castle chapel. 
 As the clock struck, the Baron drove back to 
 the great door ; the huntsman sprang down 
 f.-om his seat and opened the carriage door, 
 when lo ! to our amazement, a lady followed 
 t!ie gracious lord from his carriage. Who was 
 it ? The young and portionless, but singular- 
 ly beautiful Miss Strahling, who dwelt in our 
 neighborhood with some distant relatives of 
 
12 
 
 riDDLEHANXS. 
 
 hor father's. Tin Baron bd tlio gracious 
 lady into llio clia})Gl, introduced her to tlio 
 pastor as Ids betrothed, showed him tlic niar- 
 riago contract, which liad been carefully exe- 
 cuted in all duo form, and requested him to 
 proceed witli the marriage ceremony. The 
 pastor hesitated, because the banns had not 
 boon published ; but the Baron showed him 
 a royal license, and informed him that 1, the 
 huntsman, the cook, and the maid, were to 
 servo as Avitnesses ; and thus the marriage 
 was at once concluded." 
 
 During this recital, the cousin could not help 
 several times laughing aloud. The baililT con- 
 tinued : " The wedding was foUoAvcd by a 
 princely foast, — a real masterpiece of good 
 cooking. Tho gracious lord sat alone with 
 his bride at one table ; tlic pastor and I occu- 
 pied a second ; and, at a little distance, tho 
 maid and the huntsman were seated at a 
 third. Our lively Fiddlehanns, who w^as not 
 then quite so old as he is now, stood at tho 
 door and played the violin to his heart's con- 
 tent ; but the newly married pair remained 
 sitting quite still and serious, and consequently 
 
FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 13 
 
 tlio rest of us did not Tcnturo to move. At 
 the cud of tliG next hour, j'i.st as the clock 
 struck, the Baron laid aside his napkin, rose, 
 offered his lady-wife his arm, and led her 
 into an adjoining apartment, where her bridal 
 gifts Avcre all laid out ; there were in gold, 
 silver, jewels, and deeds the full value of 
 tip 80,000, as I, being bailiff of tlie baronial 
 estates, can testify upon my honor and my 
 conscience. * That is your property, madam,' 
 said the gracious lord ; ' and, in addition to this, 
 you will receive a yearly income of one thousand 
 dollars, under the sole condition, that, during 
 my lifetime, you will never again enter this 
 castle ; you are otherwise free to act as you 
 please; I desire to exercise no control over 
 you ; and now I have the honor to wish you 
 good morning.' 
 
 " At a sign from the Baron, tlie huntsman 
 gathered together tlie costly gifts, and placed 
 tliem in the carriage, which was still stand- 
 ing with the horses unharnessed in the court- 
 yard. The Baron then gave his wife the cus- 
 tomary documents, led her reverentially dovm 
 stairs, and sent her back a rich lady to Lho 
 
It 
 
 FIDDLEIIANXS. 
 
 friends from -whom he had received l:cr 
 poor girl." 
 
 " Well, and v/as that really the c:k1 of the 
 "whole matter?" asked the cousin, laughing. 
 
 " 1 most luimbly beg you to Avait a mo- 
 ment," replied the bailiiT, who, with con.^id- 
 cralde emotion, added : " 1 have my own ideas 
 upon the subject. I think the Baron felt to- 
 ward his wife an unutterably tender aCcction, 
 but fancied she never could be happy Avitli 
 him. I must indeed be sadly mistaken if 
 such wore not the fact, and if he did i\ot in- 
 tend, in the noblest and tendcrcst way, l;y 
 the sacrifice of his own dearest wishes, to 
 render her wealthy and perfectly independent, 
 so that she might use her free choice in scck- 
 i:ig out whatever she might deem her surest 
 way to happiness. These are my lioncst con- 
 victions, which, however, 1 have no riglit to 
 olTer as certainties ; — but I liavc already gos- 
 siped more than there was any occasion for." 
 
 " Worthy, estimable old man ! " said tlio 
 cousin, clapping the baililT on the shoulder ; 
 " you Vv'crc impelled by your excellent heart, 
 and the impulse was an honor to you. But 
 
FIDDLLIIANNS. 
 
 15 
 
 wliat lias bocomo of my cousin's wifo ? If 
 sho, as it appears, really cherished no aflec- 
 tion for him, 1 presume she soon obtained a 
 divorce and married another ? " 
 
 "Not so," replied the bailiff; "she is still 
 free, and, to far as 1 know, she honors the 
 Baron as if he were lier father ; notwith- 
 standing her wealtli, she is not happy, because 
 slie well knows that tlie Baron is not so, 
 and she has but one single desire, — to see 
 him once more. She has often tried to induce 
 him to i)ermit her to viMt -him.;., but he has 
 hitherto steadfastly refused, and I know him 
 but ill, if t!ie reason of his apparently harsh 
 denial be not, that he fears lest his feelings 
 at sucli an interview should overpower him. 
 This is indeed llie most wonderful of all his 
 Avonderful whims, — that he is ashamed of pos- 
 sessing a kind, gentle, and affectionate heart : 
 he takes llie greatest ])ains to seem rough and 
 hard-hearted, so tliat no one may thiidi him 
 weak. Probably, at some, former period of 
 his Lfe, he was deceived, and his conhdence 
 abused ; probably — But what right have 
 i to make suppositions concerning my lord's 
 
IQ FIDDLEHANNS. ™ 
 
 conduct ! Enougli, lie must have been sadly 
 treated by bis fellow-beings, that he should so 
 entirely avoid them ; and even uoav, amid all his 
 loneliness, like an invisible guardian-spirit, he 
 seems never weary of doing good to all." 
 
 " Mine host ! Another bottle of wine ! " 
 cried the cousin ; and when the Avine Avas 
 brought, he poured out full glasses for the 
 bailiff, the schoolmaster, and the judge, in- 
 viting them to drink to the health and Avelfarc 
 of the old lord. No one required a second 
 invitation, and even the host poured out a 
 glass from his own private cupboard, and 
 drank with the rest. 
 
 Meantime, the cousin's countenance visibly 
 darkened ; ho Avalked several times up and 
 down the room, and finally exclaimed : " Tliis 
 is indeed too bad ! Here have 1 come a couple 
 of tliousand miles to see my strange, dear, 
 good cousin, and to talk with him over some 
 important family matters ; and from all I hear, 
 it may be that he will not even permit mo 
 to enter the castle. Very vexatious, — upon 
 my honor, very vexatious ! " 
 
 " Without doubt he Avill deny you admit- 
 
FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 17 
 
 tancc," replied the bailiff ; " I know him well. 
 After liis marriage he sent away the cook, tho 
 liuntsman, and the maid, and has all his food, 
 which he will allow no one hut Fiddlehanns 
 to hring him, thrust through a sliding window 
 in the castle gate." 
 
 " Fiddlehanns ? " said the cousin inquir- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Yes," continued the bailiff, evidently 
 quite excited by the subject of his discourse ; 
 " and how it docs look up there ! When I 
 pay my customary business visit on the first 
 of every month, and look tlirough the open 
 window into his chamber, I feel really desper- 
 ate. The dust and lumber of many years 
 lie so thick upon the floor, — I assure you I 
 do not exaggerate, — that the path made by 
 the Baron's footsteps as he walks up and 
 down all day long, looks just like a little 
 valley between two ridges." 
 
 Oh, oh ! " cried the cousin, " that is too 
 bad I " 
 
 " But not worse than the reality," continued 
 the bailiff; " instead of human beings, tlio 
 Baron has only old musty books and docu- 
 
 19 
 
18 
 
 FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 monts for companions, and I have more than 
 o:ic3 lioard him remark, witli bitter scorn, 
 that tlicy were just as arrant hars as men 
 Wore ; but that what one could not easily ac- 
 complish with the human race, he hoped to 
 c'Toct witli books, namely, to make tliem in 
 tlicir own despite witnesses to the truth. God 
 only knows how much paper he has already 
 written up ! And that too is all covered with 
 dust. I believe he sent away his servants, 
 not . only through hatred of men, but also be- 
 cause lie wished to render himself secure from 
 every attempt at preservbig order and cleanli- 
 ness in his vicinity ; he often forbade old Chris- 
 tine meddling with his affairs, but she never 
 would listen to him, and he finally drove lier 
 away — so to say — in anger at her neatness. 
 But now his secret almoner, Fiddleliaims, 
 brings her her wages regularly, the first of 
 every month, just as if she Avere still in tlie 
 Baron's service." 
 
 " Wlio, then, is this Fiddlehamis ? " again 
 asked tlic cousin, and this time more ear- 
 nestly than before. 
 
 " Our gracious lord's favorite, and our old 
 
S^IDDLEnANNS. 
 
 19 
 
 Inimpbackcd musician," replied the bailiff; 
 ^' the Bai'ou is a groat lover of music, "which, 
 after his studies, forms his only recreation in 
 his solitude. He plays the llute, and Fiddle- 
 hanns accompanies him on the violin ; ho 
 remains within the castle with the draw- 
 bridge up, and Fiddlchanns stands without 
 on the other side of the moat, and plays as 
 long as the Baron likes. The latter seems 
 to love and trust the old musician more than 
 any other living human being ; yes, 1 believe 
 he is the only mortal who has the least influ- 
 c:ico over our gracious lord. If you have 
 indeed cucli weighty matters to discuss with 
 tlie Baro]i, your best plan will be to apply 
 to Fiddlehanns ; if ho cannot win you an en- 
 trance, you must renounce all hope. But seo! 
 here ho^comos himself, as if he had been called. 
 Good eveniiig, Fiddlehanns ! " 
 
 Tlie old humpbacked musician, with liis vio- 
 lin u]ider his arm, entered the public room. 
 One could hardly fancy an uglier man, and 
 yet it was that very ugliness wliich had pro- 
 cured him the special affection of the recluse. 
 Besides, as toon as the old musician began to 
 
^0 
 
 riDDLEIIANXS. 
 
 speak, his pock-marked features ^verc lightcf] 
 up by so benevolent an expression, tliat one 
 soon felt kindly toward liim, even "svlien one 
 failed to understand his peculiar mode of 
 speech, and the meaning of the searching but 
 furtive glances cast by his great brown eyes 
 from beneath his heavy gray eyebrows. 
 
 Fiddlehanns had, however, not always been 
 thus. In his childhood he was as comely a 
 lad as one would wish to see, and tliere were 
 still a few aged persons living in his native 
 village who could remember, when very young, 
 gathering round the good-natured boy whose 
 violin was the delight of the little community, 
 and whose kind heart rendered him a favorite 
 in every household. A severe fall had checked 
 his growth and deformed his person, and the 
 small-pox had disfigured his once attractive 
 features. 
 
 The bailiff soon made Fiddlehanns acquaint- 
 ed with the person, the position, and the 
 wishes of the stranger, who on his side, by 
 obliging expressions, strove to render tlie old 
 musician propitious to his cause. Fiddle- 
 hanns cast his eyes upon the cousin, smiled, 
 
2i 
 
 and instead of replying, drank off at ono 
 drauglit tlic glass of Avinc which the school- 
 master had pnshcd toward him ; then j)lacing 
 the violin under his chin, ho played in tho 
 strangest fashion, beginning with a pleasant 
 dance, then changing to a funeral marcli, hero 
 and there interspersed with snatches of dance 
 tunes. Suddenly he broke off with a horrible 
 discord, and gave the bailiff such a piercing 
 look, tliat he cried out : Tliat air sounds \crv 
 familiar to me ! Did you not ])lay that dance 
 at our gracious lord's wedding?" 
 
 The old musician passed his hand across 
 his eyes, replaced his violin under his arm, 
 and thus addressed the stranger : The glori- 
 ous sun must shine, sir cousin, the moon no 
 less ; and the green grass and the whole Avorld 
 must live ! You dear people, vain is dcatli ; 
 but not in vain is music, and not in vain ono 
 single kind word spoken. Yes, look at me, 
 what a selfish fellow I am ! Not so, Mr. Bailiff? 
 Do you not know me as such ? Good I — out* 
 master cousin must also march out and make 
 a beginning. If you only knew, sir cousin, 
 how down iii the wood lies a poor cottager 
 u * 
 
22 riDDLEHANNS. 
 
 on his deathbed, with wife and children, and 
 never a roof to slicltcr liim. I liave just come 
 from there. The storm tliat so threateningly 
 tlmndered this afternoon fell in fact upon the 
 poor cottager's thatched roof. How it blazed! 
 IIow the wind blew and drove the poor people 
 from their burning dwelling ; and liow they 
 had not far to carry their treasures, and yet 
 were tired and breathless Avith the exer- 
 tion of saving them ; namely, the wife, lier 
 sick husband ; and the eldest boy, liis two 
 little sisters ; — you sliould liave seen that from 
 afar, as I did ! And now the sick man is lying 
 out nnder God's free heaven ; the rain is 
 washing the dcatli-damps from his brow, and 
 the wind is piping tlie old song in his car : ^ I 
 have set my licart npon nothing you see ! ' and 
 the wife is kneeling beside him, warming liis 
 cold llngcr-ends in lier trembling hands, and 
 the cliildren arc sitting ronnd, the silly things, 
 and crying for bread, as if it could fall from 
 tlie trees like the heavy rain-drops. Up and bo 
 doing, gentlemen ! Here is my liat ; I liavo 
 done playing, and now I must ask my re- 
 ward." 
 
riDDLKIIANNS. 
 
 23 
 
 So saying, Fiddlehanns went hat in liaud 
 from guost to guest, and collected a liberal 
 alms, which he placed in the schoolmaster's 
 keeping, at the same time saying : " How is 
 it, godfather ? Could you not beg a cou])l3 
 of beds from your old wife ? And you, Mr. 
 Bailiff, have you not a couple of shirts to 
 cpare ? To-day wo must for once be before 
 our gracious lord and get the peopb as fast 
 as possible under shelter, procure bread for 
 the children, and medicine for the ^;ick. 
 AVheu our lord will hear it to-morrow, he 
 will be angry, and that is just what I Avant, 
 for then 1 can say to him : ' It serves your 
 Grac3 just right ; that is Avhat one gets by 
 loading such an owl's life ! ' But now you 
 must all go to the wood ! And take tlie 
 pastor witli you, — you may want him; and 
 master cousin, too, — every little helps! If 
 you do well by tliose poor people, master 
 cousin, I will see what I can do for you with 
 t!ie gracious lord." 
 
 Thus saying, he turned to leave the room, 
 but at the threshold, once more faced tlie 
 stranger, and after a few moments' consider- 
 
24 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 atioii, cried out: "Sir cousin! Be at the 
 drawbridge to-morrow at ten o'clock in the 
 morning ! Good night ! " 
 
 Ho then liastencd up the liill nearest to tlio 
 castle, and only separated by a deep ditch from 
 the tower in which the recluse Avas accustomed 
 to sleep. The twilight grew ever fainter, 
 while the moon in all its splendor rose be- 
 hind tlie wooded crags. Tlie old humjjbacked 
 musician gazed a few moments upoji the icenc, 
 then tuning his violin, he said: "A farewell 
 to the sun and a greeting to thoo, old friend 
 moon ! Be content ; the poor fiddler will do 
 his best." 
 
 Baring his head and standing thus amid the 
 solemn silence of the landscape, he phiyed tlic 
 air of tlie song : " Now rest all tho woods 
 and fields." 
 
 The well-known tower window was then 
 opened ; the old recluse appeared with his 
 flute, waited until the violinist had played to 
 tho end, and tlicn began to pipe tlie same air 
 upon liis instrument, wliicli Fiddlehanns ac- 
 companied with his violin ; the niglitingalcs 
 amid the shrubbery of the neglected castle 
 
FIDDLEIIANXS. 
 
 25 
 
 garden soon addod their delicious notes to 
 the nocturnal concert. 
 
 The melody had long boon ended ; tlio two 
 strange old men stood silently facing each 
 other until the twilight had faded into dark 
 night, and the moon, which liad meantime got- 
 ten beliind the tower, threw its dusky shadow 
 upon the figure of Fiddlehanns, when the 
 Baron asked : " Where have you Ijcen, Fiddle- 
 hanns ? " 
 
 " Far and near," was the reply, — in wood 
 and field, amid men and all kinds of crea- 
 tures, — among the rest in a certain castle, 
 "which I sliall not name. Yi ell, she lias at last 
 Eolemnized lier wedding, — tliat person whom 
 I will not name, — this afternoon, at five 
 o'clock, just after the storm had ceased." 
 
 " You lie ! " cried the Baron hastily. After 
 a sliort pause, he continued in low and sup- 
 pressed tones, — tones of ill-concoaled an- 
 guish : " It is all right, I should have said ; 
 1 rojoico in her happiness ; I have never de- 
 sired anything but her happiness. Yes, yes, 
 I tliank God that she has finally found the 
 riglit one to make her happy." He was again 
 
26 
 
 FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 silent a moment, and then asked : " Who is 
 the bridegroom ? " 
 
 " Death ! " replied tlic old musician. " A 
 glorious rainbow Avas just spanning the castlo 
 towers as I camo to the door and found the 
 people running liither and thither ; old blind 
 Lena, lamo Mathew's children, and Avidow 
 Margaret witli the weak back, beside half a 
 dozen more of their acquaintance, were weeping 
 and praying and condoling together. I asked 
 what was the matter, and just at that mo- 
 ment tlic maid came down and told them their 
 gracious lady was dead ; I ran up the steps, 
 for I felt that unless I caw it with my own 
 eyes, I could not believe that the poor liad 
 lost their good angel ; and sure enough, there 
 lay the beautiful earthly vesture whicli tlio 
 pure spirit liad laid aside and left beliind. 
 Tlien I went down into the thickest wood, 
 took my violin and played: 
 
 * Commit thou all thy ways, 
 And all thy heart may "wrinji, 
 To Ilim Avhose love and praise 
 Tho distant heavens sing. 
 
riDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 2T 
 
 To clouds and air and wind 
 IIi3 givcth course and way, 
 And paths lie 'II surely find 
 Wherein thy feet may stray.' 
 
 Whib playing, I tlioiiglit of all thoco who 
 had lost their truest friend, and knew not 
 tliat the old song which had so often before 
 consoled me would lead me exactly on the 
 right way." 
 
 The old Baron, after thus suddenly hearing 
 announced the death of the wife whom he 
 had so secretly, but still so tenderly and fer- 
 vently loved, gazed long and fixedly into the 
 night. He leaned his head upon tlio case- 
 ment, and finally his lips began to move ; 
 he spoke quite softly to himself, but the mu- 
 sician's delicate car distinguished t!ie Avords : 
 how happy I might have been with thee ! " 
 
 Soon, however, recovering himself and en- 
 deavoring to conceal his emotion, he ad- 
 dressed his conhdaut in solemn and sub- 
 dued tones : " The body of my wife must 
 be placed in the family va\ilt under the castle. 
 No one must come except the pastor, tho 
 lichoolmastcr, tho bailiff, and thou." 
 
28 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 " With jour permission," replied the mu- 
 sician, " there must come yet one other, 
 namely, a cousin of yours who arrived yester- 
 day in the town, and who wishes to speak 
 witli you upon important family affairs." 
 
 " I have no family," said the Baron, harshly. 
 
 " That is nothing to me," returned the mu- 
 sician, quite as harshly ; "I promised your 
 cousin that you would see him to-morrow at 
 ten o'clock. You will not make a liar of me, 
 — turn Fiddlehanns into Swaggerhanns ! So 
 much the less, I think, that I suffered the 
 cousin to pay me for my mediation with you ! 
 If you do not admit him, I as an honorable 
 man must return him his money, and that I 
 would bo loath to do." 
 
 ^' We are henceforth severed for ever ! " said 
 the Baron, coldly. 
 
 ^' No, we are not so," quietly replied the 
 musician ; " yes, if I had used the money 
 for myself! But it was for the poor cottager 
 dying in the wood, and his wife and children. 
 As I vras playing ' Commit tliou all thy ways,* 
 I camo unwittingly near the place where ho 
 lived, and I saw that the lightning had struck 
 
FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 29 
 
 Lis thatched roof, that his cabin was in flames, 
 and all wcro lying in the open air. Could I 
 do anything better than to go to the inn, play 
 for money, and let your cousin pay mo well 
 for my good word with you ? " 
 
 " Ilanns ! " cried the Baron, angrily. " Thou 
 wretched man, and dost thou only toll mo 
 this now ? " 
 
 " That comes from the owl's life you load," 
 replied Fiddlehanns ; " he who shuts himself 
 up is rightly served when others aro before 
 him. Your cousin, the bailiff, the school- 
 master, and all their kin ai^c now down in 
 the wood with beds and clothing, and the 
 innkeeper has consented to receive the dying 
 man beneath his own roof. There would be 
 plenty of space in this old castle for more than 
 one poor sick man ; but no, here the owls and 
 the bats must have all the space to themselves, 
 all the year round." 
 
 ''Out of my sight ! " cried the Baron, almost 
 beside himself with rage ; " thou too hast now 
 some design upon mo ! I am right : you aro 
 all good for nothing, — all, all — " 
 
 " Even she, who after an absence of moro 
 
 20 
 
30 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 than twenty years will return to-morrow to 
 the caslle," said the musician, wlio know well 
 lio\v to deal with the old recluse. 
 
 The Baron was a long time silent, but finally 
 called out in a steady voice — the firmness of 
 v/hicli, however, vras evidently forced — llic 
 following order : " To morrow at ten let iho 
 hearse stand before the drawbridge ! As the 
 clock strikes, mind you ! Two days shall 
 the coffin remain open in the chapel. And 
 one tiling more : the cousin may come too. 
 Good night!" 
 
 Thus saying, he closed tlie window. 
 
 Fiddlehanns gazed long and thoughtfully 
 toward the spot whence tlie Baron had spoken 
 witli him. He loved his lord above all else 
 in tlie world, and tlie noble heart beating in 
 that ill-shapen body vras filled with a trutli 
 and purity, a boundless devotion, such as tlic 
 i^ecluse, who had been most bitterly deceived 
 in the so-called aristocratic world, had never 
 elsewhere encountered. The old Baron had 
 never imparted to him the immediate causes of 
 his misanthropy, — but Fiddlehanns had di- 
 vhicd them. lie too, poor fellow, had not had 
 
FIt)DLEnATfNS. 
 
 31 
 
 loss cause to liato liis kind, for his early deform- 
 ity had rendered him the object of the bitterest 
 scorn, and even sometimes of actual abuse ; 
 and yet he loved all men for the sake of the 
 one man, tlic Baron, whom he was accustomed 
 to call tlie preserver of his life, and to whom 
 lie owed far more than the preservation of his 
 bodily existence. 
 
 He had been born a serf upon one of the 
 Ilammerstone estates, and tlie Baron's father, 
 a proud man deeply imbued Avith all the prej- 
 udices of his class, and with cold-blooded se- 
 verity, availing himself of its immemorial but 
 tyrannical privileges, had determined that the 
 deformed boy should in future play the part of 
 a buffoon in t!ie baronial castle ; for it was at 
 that time a fancy of the lesser lords to imitate 
 tlie courts of tlie greater, in all their folly 
 and extravagance ; and in emulation of kings, 
 princes, and dukes, counts and barons (w^lio 
 Illumed tliemselves as much upon their couple 
 of square miles as the former upon their larger 
 territories) insisted upon kee})iiig their stand- 
 ing armies of two or tliree soldiers, their court 
 cliapcls, court households, and court fjols. 
 
riDDLEHANNS. 
 
 The poor humpbacked boy looked forward 
 ill despair to a late of whicli he had already 
 had some foretaste in unworthy treatment re- 
 ceived from tlie high-born youtlis who oc- 
 casionally visited liis lord's castle. Amid their 
 insulting words, rude jests, and ruder blows, 
 — all of which he was compelled to bear in 
 uncomplaining silence, — he felt utterly for- 
 saken by all the world, and often envied the 
 baronial hounds, which, if also misused, were 
 at least not mocked at or derided. The proud 
 old Baron's son was the only living creature 
 who seemed to have the least sympathy with 
 the poor deformed boy ; he often protected him 
 against the ill usage of his companions, always 
 treated him as a human being, and wdien ho 
 liad been unable to save him from the conse- 
 quences of some rude game, Avould creep in 
 the evening to the side of the w^eeping boy and 
 endeavor to console him. Sometimes even 
 he w^ould appoint a meeting in the wood, 
 where they could undisturbed enjoy the mu- 
 sic of their little concerts. 
 
 When the young Baron, at liis father's 
 death, came into possession of the estates, 
 
33 
 
 his first act was to frco tlic poor hiimplvjick. 
 Tho young lord soon after went upon his 
 travels, and the musician earned his bread 
 by journeying from village to village, and 
 playing at all festivals, weddings, church 
 consecrations, and anniversaries ; he thus 
 gradually received the name of Fiddlchanns. 
 He never forgot how his young benefactor had 
 over treated him as a human being, and had 
 crowned all ty bestowing upon him the most 
 precious of gifts, freedom. He thence called 
 him his preserver, and more than once, when 
 he felt in especially good spirits, had he cried 
 out : " 0, if God would only grant mo tho 
 favor of going through fire and Avater for the 
 Baron, if I could only break my neck, or at 
 least a leg or an arm, in his service, so that I 
 should not be forced to leave the world his 
 debtor ! 
 
 It gave him the deepest pain to see how his 
 benefactor had been injured or deceived by his 
 fellow-men, — how irremediably he had been 
 wounded in his very life's core ; it was his 
 greatest pride that he enjoyed the confidence 
 of the unhappy man, who had thus witli- 
 
 20* 
 
34 
 
 FTDDLT^nAXN'S. 
 
 cl^a^Yn himself from all association with his 
 ki:id, suniciontly to bo intrusted Avitli the 
 many acts of boncficonco of which ho Avas tho 
 cccrct author. 
 
 Now as ho descended tlio hill, lie again 
 tliought of his youth, of all lie owed to tho 
 recluse, of the lattcr's profound melancholy, 
 and of tliat hour which was indeed rarely 
 absent from his mind, when the Baron woidd 
 be surprised in his voluntary captivity by some 
 malady or sudden accident, without a single 
 friend near to aid or console him. 
 
 The moon whicli had just emerged from a 
 heavy cloud, was now shining clearly upon 
 the castle and its immediate vicinity ; the old 
 musician tliought he could distinguish through 
 the crooked branches of an aged fruit-tree a 
 human figure. He quickly concealed himself 
 behind the trunk of a large oak, and looked 
 about him witli a eearcliing gaze. He soon 
 fjlt convinced that the figure was that of tho 
 Ltranger cousin, and a suspicion which he 
 could not stifle suddenly arose in his mind, 
 lie cautiously glided nearer the Baron's rela- 
 tive, and although ho could see nothing uu- 
 
FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 35 
 
 Usual in liis behavior, yet he felt very uneasy ; 
 and Avlien he saw him return toward the town, 
 he followed at a little distance, closely observ- 
 ing all he might do. He then carefully exe- 
 cuted the commission intrusted to him by the 
 Baron. 
 
 On the following morning, as the clock 
 struck ten, the drawbridge was let down to 
 permit the passage of the hearse, which, ac- 
 companied by the pastor, the schoolmaster, 
 the cousin, and Fiddlehanns, already stood 
 without. The bailiff was not there ; he had 
 taken a severe cold the preceding evening 
 from exposure to the night air in the damp 
 wood, and was suffering from an attack of his 
 old malady, rheumatism. He begged Fiddle- 
 hanns to present his excuses to the Baron ; 
 but the latter, still greatly excited, would take 
 no excuse, and cried out to Fiddlehanns : " Go 
 back again ! Have the horses harnessed ; — 
 if ho cannot walk, he must ride. He was 
 at the wedding, and he shall be at the home 
 bringing. AVcll, — what are you standing 
 there for ? Arc you, too, refractory ? O 
 all i§ Tain, — there is neither love nor truth 
 
.36 
 
 FIDBLEnANNS. 
 
 upon llio faco ol' tliis y^-ido earth ! lie must 
 como, li3 j^liall como ; I will it, just because 
 li3 does not wish it. Rheumatism? Miser- 
 able excuse! Any one could give the same. 
 March I " 
 
 " By your bavc ! " said Fiddlehanns, gently, 
 pressing somewhat nearer to the old lord ; 
 but the latter would not suffer him to con- 
 tinue, and hastily crying out, " Five feet from 
 my person ! " stepped back out of the reach of 
 of a whispered word. 
 
 " But it is something of the greatest im- 
 portance," continued the ^misician in implor- 
 ing tones, to which the Baron Avas totally un- 
 accustomed from his lips, and which only 
 increased his ill-humor. " ^larch ! " cried he, 
 imperiously. " You will cither bring the bai- 
 liff with you, or you will never let me see 
 you again. Our solemnities are waiting. In 
 the meantime, I will settle matters with this 
 cousin of mine." 
 
 The musician sadly glided away. The Bar- 
 on signed to his cousin to follow him to the 
 tower ; but as he entered his chamber, and tho 
 stranger prepared to follow, the old man sud- 
 
FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 87 
 
 d^iily shut tho door in liis faco, bolted it, tlion 
 o;)o:icd t!i3 sliding panel and said: "Now, sir, 
 v/iiat do you want witli mo ? " Tlio cousin 
 began a long series of friendly wishes and rep- 
 resentations, the sum of Avhich was, that the 
 Baron had better abandon his strange mode 
 of life, and pass tlie remainder of his days in 
 tlie society of his own people. The old man 
 lauglied derisively, and replied : " Our cousin 
 is probably a doctor ; he doubtless has a di- 
 l)loma ! Does he wish to cure me? 0, I 
 understand that much better ; wait a mo- 
 ment ! " 
 
 He left him an instant alone, then return- 
 ing to the opening, handed him a full purse, 
 adding : " We will change parts. 1 will play 
 tlie doctor. You are suffering under a A'ery 
 serious malady ; you are troubled with debts ^ 
 are you not ? Here is a remedy that will 
 rrork an instant cure. Only no relapse, master 
 ijousin, no return ! And now master cousin, — • 
 march ! " 
 
 The panel was again closed. Swinging the 
 purse in his hand, the cousin went slowly and 
 carefully down the wnnding stairs ; but instead 
 
33 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 of going into the open court-yard, he hid him- 
 self in a dark passage leading to the chambers 
 on the ground floor. 
 
 After the lapse of a half-hour, the carriage 
 returned with the bailiff and the musician, 
 and no sooner had the old Baron heard the 
 rumbling of the wheels, than he descended 
 from the tower, and carefully and affection- 
 ately assisted the bailiff out of the vehicle. 
 Then, aided by Fiddlehanns, the schoolmaster, 
 and the two coachmen, he lifted the coffin 
 from the hearse and bore it into the castle 
 chapel, in the centre of which stood an an- 
 cient bier, on which the coffin was laid, and 
 then opened. The old man could no longer 
 control the feelings whicli, by a powerful effort, 
 he had hitherto suppressed ; tears gushed from 
 his eyes, and he sank on his knees beside the 
 dead. 
 
 The few words spoken by the pastor were 
 simple, heartfelt, and most touching ; but they 
 lasted far too long for Fiddlehanns. Scarcely 
 had the pastor concluded, when the hump- 
 backed musician in unutterable anxiety rushed 
 up to the Baron, seized him by both his hands, 
 
FIDDLKIIANXS. 
 
 39 
 
 and asked after tlio cousin. The old man 
 silently motioned liim back ; but Fiddlchanns 
 repeated tlie question so urgently that all tlio 
 bystanders became attentive, and even infected 
 ^Yitll his alarm, more especially as they had 
 not seen the cousin leave tlio castle. 
 
 The old lord meanwhile recovered his self- 
 command. Rising from the ground, ho said 
 to the assembled retainers : "I will make my 
 will, and you shall be the witnesses." 
 
 The musician whispered a question in tlio 
 pastor's ear, and as tlic latter shook his head 
 in reply, Fiddlehanns suddenly left the chapel. 
 In vain did the Baron angrily call him to re- 
 turn ; he was not to be detained. 
 
 The company, led by the lord of the castle, 
 then left the chapel, the doors of Avhich were 
 carefully closed, and entered a large hall. The 
 Baron bade them wait there five minutes, and 
 then disappeared through a small side door to 
 bring paper, ink, and pens from the innermost 
 recesses of his liormitage, into which no ono 
 was ever suffered to penetrate. 
 
 Scarcely liad he left the hall, when those rc- 
 mainiiig behind heard a piercing cry, which 
 
FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 Eeemed to come from the ground floor. Hor- 
 ror-stricken, tli'ey hurried out in the direction 
 of the sound. 
 
 " That Avas certainly the voice of Fiddle- 
 hanns," said the schoolmaster ; ''he has met 
 with some accident. Come, let us aid him ! 
 But Avhcre can he be ? " 
 
 The bailiff, who was the most familiar with 
 all the turns in the old castle, struck at once 
 into the right way, and the others were just 
 about to follow, when the cry was repeated, but 
 weaker than before. The bailiff and his com- 
 panions redoubled their pace, and were already 
 in the lower hall, when the cousin rushed past 
 them. They held him fast ; he tried to tear 
 himself away and force a passage through liis 
 captors. They stormed him Avith questions re- 
 garding Fiddlehanns ; meantime, he succeeded 
 in tlu'owing them off; he drew a pistol from 
 his breast, fired it, and ran away. All stood 
 quite astounded, when the old Baron made 
 his appearance, and asked, quite breathless, 
 '' What has happened ? " 
 
 When told all that was known, he cried: 
 " What do I care for my cousin, what for the 
 
FIDDLEHANN3. 
 
 41 
 
 -svliolo world ! Seek the fiddler ! My life for 
 his!" 
 
 He forced them all out of the hall, and tliey 
 soon found old Fiddlehanns in the same little 
 room in which he had discovered tlie hidden 
 cousin ; — the poor humphack lay in his hlood 
 upon the floor. When he heard them coming, 
 he raised himself slowly up, and when he be- 
 held the Baron's tall, gaunt form, and deathly 
 pale countenance, he gasped for breath and 
 cried : " God be praised ! He lives ! " His 
 ugly features were transfigured with joy. The 
 Baron hastened to his side, and folding his 
 arms tenderly around his dying form, said : 
 
 thou, my only friend in this world, what 
 has happened to thee ? " 
 
 " Nothing," replied Fiddlehanns, gently ; 
 " the fervent wish which 1 have all my life 
 kept hidden within my inmost soul has finally 
 been gratified : 1 longed to die for my pro- 
 server, my benefactor." 
 
 Thus saying, he looked up into the Baron's 
 face and smiled. 
 
 " Die 1 " cried the old man ; " no, that thou 
 shalt not, thou must not." 
 
 21 
 
43 
 
 FIDDLEHAXXS. 
 
 Tiio musician sank back into his arms, and 
 in broken tones replied : " Old sti(T-ncck ! All 
 is not in this world as you will. There is One 
 above who also has His Avill, and what He docs 
 is well done. An old instrument wears out 
 and breaks, — wdiat more? — I havo but ono 
 request ! " 
 
 " Speak ! " cried the Baron ; " any request 
 from thoo shall be sacred to mc ; I will falfd 
 it.'' 
 
 " You have so many cliildren," murmured 
 the dying musician, — " all the people on your 
 barony, — and they all love their good, true 
 father so dearly ! — Do as I do ! Go out ! I 
 am going out of this miserable ruined cabin 
 called life. Go you out of your captivity, out 
 of your old tower, to your children ! Long, 
 l.)ng may you live among those whom yoii 
 have aided and benefited, — you owe it to 
 those poor people, — her poor people. Every 
 heart feels oppressed when it must ever receive 
 love wliich it has no opportunity of returning, 
 when it cannot show its gratitude even by a 
 silent glance ! And when you come to die, 
 then will true love close your eyes." 
 
FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 43 
 
 Tlicsc words were his last. 
 
 "xVll is over!" said the pastor; the Baron 
 himself closed the eyes of the faithful dead, 
 sighed deeply, and tlien said : " OIi ! there lies 
 dead the noblest of human hearts, and so soon 
 after that other heart wliieli I so fervently 
 loved. Have compassion on a poor man who 
 now stands in this world alone and utterly 
 desolate ! " 
 
 " Not so ! " returned the pastor and the bai- 
 liff; " you do not know how ricli you are in 
 love. 0, remember the last prayer of our de- 
 parted friend, and you will soon learn to know 
 the full value of the treasure you possess." 
 
 " What I have promised the dead, I will 
 perform to the living," said the old man, 
 sinking upon the ground utterly exhausted 
 and overcome by these sudden and repeated 
 blows. 
 
 Meanwhile, unusual sounds were heard pro- 
 ceeding from the court-yard, which was soon 
 filled by a multitude of the townspeople, who 
 had captured the cousin and now held him a 
 prisoner in their midst. All his efforts to 
 -escape had been in vain. When the Baron 
 
riDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 had sent the faitlifiil Fiddlchanr.s for the sick 
 bailiff, the musician, divining icme evil, had 
 called together a number of tlie tov/nspeopb 
 and sent them to guard tlic exit of the draw- 
 bridge, impressing upon them that they were 
 to keep themselves concealed, and if the stran- 
 ger should attempt to leave the castle, tliey 
 ■\verc to seize him, and under no circimistances 
 suffer him to depart, but to bring him back 
 again into the stronghold. 
 
 The fugitive had in fact fallen into their 
 hands, and tlie investigation instituted by the 
 bailiff on the spot soon brought out the "whole 
 truth of the matter. The stranger was no 
 relation to the old Baron, but the leader of 
 a band of robbers which had long rendered the 
 borders of the barony insecure. He had heard 
 of the solitary life led by tlie wealthy but mis- 
 anthropic recluse, and had devised a j;lan cf 
 procuring access to him by feigning himself to 
 be a cousin. All that he saw and heard con- 
 vinced him of the exceeding difficulty of exe- 
 cuting this project, and when the old Baron 
 handed him the pui'se through the open win- 
 dow, he determined to conceal himself within 
 
FIDDLEIIANNS. 
 
 45 
 
 the castle walls, and during the niglit murder 
 and rob the recluse. Fiddlchanns had found 
 out his hiding-place and had given the alarm, 
 whereupon the robber had plunged his dagger 
 into the poor musician's breast. The criminal 
 was fettered, and delivered into the hands of 
 justice. 
 
 Tlie old Baron had the body of the f^iithful 
 Fiddlchanns carried into tlio cliapcl and placed 
 by the side of his wife. At tlie end of the time 
 appointed, both corpses were homo into tlio 
 vault, and so placed that a vacant space was 
 left between them for the old man himself. 
 Instead of the family escutcheon, the Baron 
 had a silver plate inserted in the old musi- 
 cian's cofhn, on which was inscribed : " Hu- 
 manity is tlie loftiest Nobility ! " 
 
 Notwithstanding its difficulty and his own 
 repugnance, the grav-haiicd recluse faitlifully 
 kept the promise he had made to his dying 
 friend. He left tlie castle and went to live 
 with the pastor in the town where, surrounded 
 by tlie luifeigned love and reverence of those 
 whom he was never weary of benefiting, ho 
 gradually lost his misanthropy, and finally, 
 
 21* 
 
46 
 
 FIDDLEHANNS. 
 
 during tlic last days of his life, experienced 
 that delightful feeling which thrills a fatlier's 
 soul when he can look round him and behold 
 among his grateful children the happy anqf 
 ennobling effects of his own upright desires 
 and endeaA^ors. 
 
 Every evening, accompanied by tlic pastor, 
 the old Baron went to the castle, and wliilo 
 the pastor awaited him in the court-yard, he 
 remained a short time in the chapel, and 
 played on his flute the melodies Avhich Fiddle- 
 lianns had been wont to accompany with his 
 violin. 
 
 THE END.