Paul Redding a Tale of the Brandywine

together at the casement of the little parlor, that looked out upon the street. He had been making a sketch of her, as she sat reading. The liquid blue eyes cast down beneath their long flaxen fringes, the delicate oval face, from which the hair was gathered simply back, the small dimpled hand laid upon the white page, and added to all this the plain Quaker attire, formed a subject worthy of a more skilful pencil than that which now attempted to transcribe it. This, Paul was sensible of, and he no sooner finished the drawing, than he destroyed it. " Edith," said he, " think you I shall ever be an artist ? " " Certainly I do, Paul, otherwise I would advise you to abandon all thoughts of art, and go immediately to hard labor." " To hard labor, indeed ! think you that the artist lives the life of luxury and ease! Oh, no, Edith. To pursue art, is to pursue early toil andlate watching, and too often obscurity, poverty and want. The artist must grow pale over his pencil, he must gird himself well for the long ordeal, if he would be a great artist. But then how ennobling the ambition, to pursue a great object through years of perpetual darkness, to grapple even with the lean hounds of poverty, and come out at last bright, though worn down with the conflict! The thing is achieved! and what is the sacrifice of this poor mortality when compared with immortality ! What though Raffael's body fell away in early life, in his works he still lives, and must li...