THE COURAGEOUS BOY 21 The boy took off his hat to the great man whom all England delighted to honor, and answered: “I am sure the Duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey orders. I must keep this gate shut, nor permit any one to pass without my master's express permission." The brave old warrior was greatly pleased at the boy's answer, and, lifting his own hat, he said: "I honor the man or the boy who can neither be bribed nor frightened into doing wrong. With an army of such soldiers I could conquer, not only the French, but the whole world." As the party galloped away, the boy ran off to his work, shouting at the top of his voice, "Hurrah! hurrah for the Duke of Wellington!" Sow an act, and you reap a habit; Sow a habit, and you reap a character; What a world of gossip would be prevented if it were only remembered that a person who tells you of the faults of others intends to tell others of your faults. Nothing is politically right that is morally wrong. -O'Connell BARTOLOMÉ ESTEBAN MURILLO Find on your maps Seville, in Spain. Here, in the year 1618, was born Murillo. How little the proud nobles of this city thought that one day the fame of the poor babe, born of humble parents and in lowly quarters, would be extended throughout the civilized world. His parents died while he was a young boy, and left him not only penniless, but with a sickly sister dependent upon him for support. From his earliest years he wanted to become a painter, but he had only crude materials with which to work and no suitable models to imitate. A cousin gave him a few lessons, and a friend, who had traveled, told him about the beautiful pictures in other cities. His industry was remarkable, and after the death of his parents every penny he could save was carefully hoarded for a fund with which to support his sister. As soon as he had made arrangements for the care of his sister, he went to Madrid, where lived Velasquez, who was then famous as an artist. Murillo presented himself to the great painter, judging that as he came from Seville, where Velasquez was born, the BARTOLOME ESTEBAN MURILLO 23 artist would be kind to him. This generous artist received Murillo with kindness, and gave him assistance in many ways during the three years he studied and painted in Madrid. Murillo returned to Seville, although his friends urged him to go to Italy to study. The Franciscan monks, to whom the world owes many a debt for rich art treasures, gave him an order to decorate their monastery. His work for the good Franciscans in Seville attracted the attention of the whole city. Ever after the good monks had given him the opportunity to show the world what he could do, he never lacked orders for pictures. He painted several pictures of the Blessed Virgin. The Immaculate Conception, in the Louvre, in Paris, is considered one of the most beautiful pictures in the world. His pictures of St. Anthony of Padua show that he had great devotion to this saint whom the holy Babe visited. He painted nine pictures of St. Anthony. One writer thus describes the picture in the cathedral at Seville: "Kneeling near a table, the shaven, brown-frocked saint is surprised by a visit from the Infant Jesus, a charming naked Babe, who descends in a golden air of glory, walking the bright air as if it were the earth, while around Him floats and hovers a company of cherubs in a rich garland of graceful forms and lovely faces. “Gazing up in rapture at this dazzling vision, the saint kneels, with arms outstretched, to receive the approaching Saviour. On the table at his side there is a vase of white lilies, painted with such skill that birds wandering among the aisles have been seen attempting to perch on it and peck the flowers." The many pictures painted by Murillo, and now found in cathedrals, monasteries, and art galleries, are of priceless value. A study of his pictures shows that the great artist's greatest works were those which represent his own favorite devotions. GOD BLESS OUR STARS FOREVER BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR BENJAMIN FRANKLIN TAYLOR. Born at Lowville, N. Y., July 19, 1819; died in Cleveland, Ohio, February 24, 1887. He was a writer of prose and poetry, and a war correspondent. Some of his poems have been copied in periodicals all over the land. "God bless our stars forever!" Is the burden of the song, Where the sail throughout the midnight Is flickering along; When a ribbon of blue heaven Is gleaming through the clouds, With a star or two upon it, For the sailor in the shrouds. "God bless our stars forever!" It is Liberty's refrain, GOD BLESS OUR STARS FOREVER From the snows of wild Nevada To the sounding woods of Maine; Where the thunder shakes his turban Where the mountains of New England Where God's palm imprints the prairie Here, there! "Our stars forever!" At Bennington it waves, Oh! long ago at Lexington, And above those minute-men, The "Old Thirteen" were blazing bright There were only thirteen then! 25 |