4. Many a visitor to his studio wished to purchase that lovely face; but, though poor, and often in want of money to buy food and clothes, he would not sell his "good angel," as he called this portrait. 5. Years passed by. Oftentimes, as he looked up to the face on the glowing canvas, he wondered what had become of that beautiful boy. "I should like to see how he looks now," said he; "I wonder if I should know him? Is he a good man and true, or wicked and base? or has he died and gone to a better world?" 6. One day the artist was strolling down one of the fine walks of the city, when he beheld a young man whose face and mien were so vicious, so depraved, so nearly fiend-like, that he stopped involuntarily and gazed at him. "What a spectacle! I should like to paint that face, and hang it in my studio opposite the angel boy," said the artist to himself. 7. The young man asked the painter for money; for he was a beggar as well as a thief. "Come to my room and let me paint your portrait, and I will give you all you ask," said the artist. 8. The young man followed the painter and sat for a sketch. When it was finished, and he had received a few coins for his trouble, he turned to go, but his eye rested upon the picture: he looked at it, turned pale, and then burst into tears. 9. "What troubles you, man?" asked the artist. It was long before the young man could speak; he sobbed aloud and seemed pierced with agony. At last he pointed up to the picture on the wall, and in broken tones, which seemed to come from the heart, said: 10. "Twenty years ago you asked me to come up here and sit for a picture, and that angel face is the portrait. Behold me now a ruined man-so bloated, so hideous, that all the pure and good turn their faces from me with loathing.” 66 11. The artist was amazed. He could scarcely believe his own senses. Pray, what has caused this change?" he asked. 12. The young man then told him his sad story; how, being an only son and very beautiful, his parents petted and spoiled him; how he associated with bad boys and learned to love and imitate their vices; how, having plenty of money, he was enticed into wicked places until all was lost, and then, unable to work and ashamed to beg, he began to steal, was caught and imprisoned, and how every bad deed seemed to urge him to commit a worse one. 13. The story was a fearful one, and brought tears into the artist's eyes. He besought the young man to stop in his career of crime, and offered to help him. But, alas! it was too late. Disease, brought on by dissipation, soon prostrated him, and he died before he could reform. 14. The painter hung his portrait opposite that of the beautiful boy, and when visitors asked him why he suffered so hideous a face to be there, he replied, "Between the angel and the demon there are only twenty years of vice." ANALYSIS. 1. Of what country was this artist a native? 2. What face did he want for his studio? 3. What is a studio?" 4. What made the child glad when he entered the studio? 5. Did the artist admire the picture of the boy? Why? 6. What did the artist sometimes say to himself when he looked upon the face? 7. Describe the appearance of a man he met many years after he painted the portrait of the boy. 8. Upon what condition did the painter promise this man all he asked? 9. Who was this man? 10. What was the artist's reply to visitors who made inquiries about the two pictures? 11. What important moral truth is illustrated by this lesson? XL.-RAIN ON THE ROOF. WHE HEN the humid shadows hover And the melancholy darkness 2. Every tinkle on the shingles And a thousand recollections Weave their bright hues into woof, As I listen to the patter Of the rain upon the roof. 3. Now in fancy comes my mother, O! I see her bending o'er me 4. Then my little seraph sister, With her wings and waving hair, As I listen to the murmur Of the soft rain on the roof. 5. And another comes to thrill me 6. There is naught in art's bravuras That subdued, subduing strain Coates Kinney. XLI-A HURRICANE. I WAS leaning on my knees, with my lips about to touch the water, when I heard a distant murmuring sound of an extraordinary nature. I drank, however, and, as I rose to my feet, looked toward the south-west, when I observed a yellowish oval spot, the appearance of which was quite new to me. Little time was left me for consideration, as the next moment a smart breeze began to agitate the taller trees. It increased to an unexpected height, and already the smaller branches and twigs were seen falling in a slanting direction toward the ground. 2. Two minutes had scarcely elapsed, when the whole forest before me was in fearful motion. Here and there, where one tree pressed against another, a creaking noise was produced, similar to that occasioned by the violent gusts which sometimes sweep over the country. Turning instinctively toward the direction from which the wind blew, I saw, to my great astonishment, that the noblest trees of the forest bent their lofty heads for awhile, and, unable to stand against the blast, were falling to pieces. 3. First, the branches were broken off with a crackling noise, then went the upper part of the massy trunks, and in many places whole trees of gigantic size were falling entire to the ground. So rapid was the progress of the storm, that before I could think of taking measures to insure my safety, the hurricane was passing opposite the place where I stood. Never can I forget the scene which at that moment presented itself. The tops of the trees were seen moving in the strangest manner in the central current of the tempest, which carried along with it |