"
"Really," said Mrs. Wolston, "it is a pity, after all, that you did
not achieve your second verse."
"And yet," continued Jack, "that is only a copy. How much more sublime
when we regard the painter as a creator! If there is in the past or
present a heroic deed--if there is in the infinity of his life one
moment more blessed than another, like Pygmalion he breathes into it
the breath of life, and it becomes imperishable. Who would think a
century or two hence of the victories of Fritz, unless the skill of
the painter be called in to immortalize them!"
"I agree with you in thinking that the arts you name are the source of
beautiful and legitimate emotions. But generally it is better to view
them as a recreation or pastime, rather than a profession. They have
doubtless made a few men live in posterity, but, on the other hand,
they have embittered and shortened the lives of thousands."
"You will never guess what led me to adopt this art in preference to
the two others. It was the discovery, that we made some years ago, of
a gum tree, the name of which I do not recollect."
"The myrica cerifera," said Ernest.
"From the gum of this tree the varnish may be made. Now, like my
brother, who, when he sees the sun overhead, considers he ought to
profit by the circumstance and become a discoverer, so I said to
myself: You have varnish, all you want, therefore, to produce a
magnificent painting is canvas, colors, and talent; consequently, you
must not allow such an opportunity to pass--it would be unpardonable.
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