Macaria

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by Augusta J. Evans


  CHAPTER XXXV

  "THE SANCTIFIED DEVOTION AND FULL WORK"

  The sunlight of a warm spring day flashed through the open window, and madegolden arabesque tracery on the walls, and portraits of the parlour atHuntingdon Hill. The costly crimson damask curtains had long since been cutinto shirts for the soldiers, and transported to the army of Tennessee, andair and sunshine entered unimpeded. Electra sat before her canvas in thisroom, absorbed in the design which now engaged every thought. The witcheryof her profession had woven its spell about her, banishing for a time thespectral past.

  The extension of the Conscription statute had, several months before,deprived Irene of a valued and trusty overseer; and to satisfy herselfconcerning the character of his successor, and the condition of affairs athome, she and her uncle had returned to W----, bringing Electra with them.

  Irene was with Electra in the parlour.

  "What progress are you making, Electra?"

  "Very little. I shall not hurry myself; I intend that the execution shallbe equal to my ideal--and that ideal entirely worthy of the theme. I wantto lay my '_Modern Macaria_,' as the first offering of Southern art, uponmy country's altar, as a nucleus around which nobler and grander pictures,from the hands of my countrymen and women, shall cluster."

  "Electra, in order to effect this 'consummation devoutly to be wished,' itis necessary that the primary branches of Art should be popularized, andthrown open to the masses; and in order to open for them new avenues ofsupport, I have determined to establish in W---- a School of Design forWomen--similar in plan, though more extensive, than that founded some yearsago by Mrs. Peter of Philadelphia. The upper portion of the building willbe arranged for drawing classes, wood-engraving, and the various branchesof Design; and the lower, corresponding in size and general appearance, Iintend for a circulating library for our county. Over that School of DesignI want you to preside; your talents, your education, your devotion to yourArt fit you peculiarly for the position. The salary shall be such as tocompensate you for your services; and, when calmer days dawn upon us, wemay be able to secure some very valuable lecturers among ourgentlemen-artists. I have a large lot on the corner of Pine Street andHuntingdon Avenue, opposite the court-house, which will be a fine locationfor it, and I wish to appropriate it to this purpose. While you areadorning the interior of the building, the walls of which are to containfrescoes of some of the most impressive scenes of our Revolution, I willembellish the grounds in front, and make them my special charge. Iunderstand the cultivation of flowers, though the gift of painting them isdenied me. Yesterday I sold my diamonds for a much larger amount than Isupposed they would command, and this sum, added to other funds now at mydisposal, will enable me to accomplish the scheme. Dr. Arnold and UncleEric cordially approve my plan, will aid me very liberally, and as soon astranquillity is restored I shall succeed in erecting the building withoutapplying to any one else for assistance. When your picture is finished, Iwish you to make me a copy to be hung up in our School of Design, that thestudents may be constantly reminded of the debt of gratitude we owe ourarmies."

  The canvas, which she leaned forward to inspect more closely, contained anallegorical design representing, in the foreground, two female figures. Onestern, yet noble-featured, crowned with stars--triumph and exultationflashing in the luminous eyes. Independence, crimson-mantled, grasping theConfederate Banner of the Cross, whose victorious folds streamed above acaptured battery, where a Federal flag trailed in the dust. At her sidestood white-robed, angelic Peace with one hand over the touch-hole of thecannon against which she leaned, and the other extended in benediction.Vividly the faces contrasted--one all athrob with national pride, beamingwith brilliant destiny; the other wonderfully serene and holy. In thedistance, gleaming in the evening light which streamed from the West, tentsdotted a hill-side; and, intermediate between Peace and the glitteringtents, stretched a torn, stained battlefield, over which the roar and rushof conflict had just swept, leaving mangled heaps of dead in attestation ofits fury.

  "How many months do you suppose it will require to complete it?" askedIrene, whose interest in the picture was scarcely inferior to that of itscreator.

  "If I work steadily upon it, I can soon finish it; but if I go with you toa Tennessee hospital, I must, of course, leave it here until the war ends.After all, Irene, the joy of success does not equal that which attends thepatient working. Perhaps it is because 'anticipation is the purest part ofpleasure.' I love my work; no man or woman ever loved it better; and yetthere is a painful feeling of isolation, of loneliness, which steals overme sometimes, and chills all my enthusiasm. It is so mournful to know that,when the labour is ended, and a new chaplet encircles my brow, I shall haveno one but you to whom I can turn for sympathy in my triumph. If I feelthis so keenly now, how shall I bear it when the glow of life fades intosober twilight shadows, and age creeps upon me?"

  She threw down her brush and palette, and, turning towards her companion,leaned her purplish head against her.

  "Electra, it is very true that single women have trials for which athoughtless, happy world has little sympathy. But lonely lives are notnecessarily joyless; they should be, of all others, most useful.

  "Remember that the woman who dares to live alone, and be sneered at, isbraver, and nobler, and better than she who escapes both in a lovelessmarriage. It is true that you and I are very lonely, and yet our futureholds much that is bright. You have the profession you love so well, andour new School of Design to engage your thoughts; and I a thousand claimson my time and attention. I have Uncle Eric to take care of and to love,and Dr. Arnold, who is growing quite infirm, has promised me that, as soonas he can be spared from the hospitals, he will make his home with us. Whenthis storm of war has spent itself, your uncle's family will return fromEurope and reside here with you. Harvey, too, will come to W---- tolive--will probably take charge of Mr. Campbell's church--and we shall havethe pleasure and benefit of his constant counsel. If I could see you amember of that church I should be better satisfied--and you would behappier."

  "I would join to-morrow, if thereby I could acquire your sublime faith, andstrength, and resignation. Oh, Irene! my friend and comforter! I want tolive differently in future. Once I was wedded to life and myArt--pre-eminence in my profession, fame, was all that I cared to attain;now I desire to spend my remaining years so that I may meet Russell beyondthe grave. His death broke the ties that bound me to this world; I live nowin hope of reunion in God's eternal kingdom. I have been selfish, andcareless, and complaining; but, oh! I want to do my whole duty henceforth.Irene, my calm, sweet, patient guide, teach me to be more like you."

  "Electra, take Christ for your model, instead of an erring human being likeyourself, constantly falling short of her own duty. With Harvey to directus, we ought to accomplish a world of good, here in sight of Russell'sgrave."

  The eyes of the artist went back to the stainless robes and seraphic faceof her pictured Peace in the loved "Modern Macaria," and, as she resumedher work, her brow cleared, the countenance kindled as in days of yore,bitter memories hushed their moans and fell asleep at the wizard touch ofher profession, and the stormy, stricken soul found balm and rest inHeaven-appointed Labour.

  Standing at the back of Electra's chair, with one hand resting on hershoulder, Irene raised her holy violet eyes, and looked through the windowtoward the cemetery, where glittered a tall marble shaft which the citizensof W---- had erected over the last quiet resting-place of Russell Aubrey.Sands of Time were drifting stealthily around the crumbling idols of themorning of life, levelling and tenderly shrouding the Past, but sorrow leftits softening shadow on the orphan's countenance, and laid its chasteningfinger about the lips which meekly murmured: "Thy will be done." The raysof the setting sun gilded her mourning dress, gleamed in the white rosesthat breathed their perfume in her rippling hair, and lingered like abenediction on the placid pure face of the lonely woman who had survivedevery earthly hope; and who, calmly fronting her Altars of Sacrifice, hereded
icated herself anew to the hallowed work of promoting the happiness andgladdening the paths of all who journeyed with her down the chequeredaisles of Time.

  _Printed in Great Britain by_ Butler & Tanner, _Frome and London_

 


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