At one of the angles of the battlements stood a shrine16 of the Virgin17, such as we see everywhere at the street corners of Rome, but seldom or never, except in this solitary18, instance, at a height above the ordinary level of men’s views and aspirations19. Connected with this old tower and its lofty shrine, there is a legend which we cannot here pause to tell; but for centuries a lamp has been burning before the Virgin’s image, at noon, at midnight, and at all hours of the twenty-four, and must be kept burning forever, as long as the tower shall stand; or else the tower itself, the palace, and whatever estate belongs to it, shall pass from its hereditary21 possessor, in accordance with an ancient vow22, and become the property of the Church.
As Miriam approached, she looked upward, and saw,—not, indeed, the flame of the never-dying lamp, which was swallowed up in the broad sunlight that brightened the shrine, but a flock of white doves, skimming, fluttering, and wheeling about the topmost height of the tower, their silver wings flashing in the pure transparency of the air. Several of them sat on the ledge23 of the upper window, pushing one another off by their eager struggle for this favorite station, and all tapping their beaks24 and flapping their wings tumultuously against the panes25; some had alighted in the street, far below, but flew hastily upward, at the sound of the window being thrust ajar, and opening in the middle, on rusty26 hinges, as Roman windows do.
A fair young girl, dressed in white, showed herself at the aperture27 for a single instant, and threw forth as much as her two small hands could hold of some kind of food, for the flock of eleemosynary doves. It seemed greatly to the taste of the feathered people; for they tried to snatch beakfuls of it from her grasp, caught it in the air, and rushed downward after it upon the pavement.
“What a pretty scene this is,” thought Miriam, with a kindly28 smile, “and how like a dove she is herself, the fair, pure creature! The other doves know her for a sister, I am sure.”
Miriam passed beneath the deep portal of the palace, and turning to the left, began to mount flight after flight of a staircase, which, for the loftiness of its aspiration20, was worthy29 to be Jacob’s ladder, or, at all events, the staircase of the Tower of Babel. The city bustle31, which is heard even in Rome, the rumble32 of wheels over the uncomfortable paving-stones, the hard harsh cries reechoing in the high and narrow streets, grew faint and died away; as the turmoil33 of the world will always die, if we set our faces to climb heavenward. Higher, and higher still; and now, glancing through the successive windows that threw in their narrow light upon the stairs, her view stretched across the roofs of the city, unimpeded even by the stateliest palaces. Only the domes34 of churches ascend11 into this airy region, and hold up their golden crosses on a level with her eye; except that, out of the very heart of Rome, the column of Antoninus thrusts itself upward, with St. Paul upon its summit, the sole human form that seems to have kept her company.
Finally, the staircase came to an end; save that, on one side of the little entry where it terminated, a flight of a dozen steps gave access to the roof of the tower and the legendary35 shrine. On the other side was a door, at which Miriam knocked, but rather as a friendly announcement of her presence than with any doubt of hospitable36 welcome; for, awaiting no response, she lifted the latch37 and entered.
“What a hermitage you have found for yourself, dear Hilda!” she, exclaimed. “You breathe sweet air, above all the evil scents38 of Rome; and even so, in your maiden39 elevation40, you dwell above our vanities and passions, our moral dust and mud, with the doves and the angels for your nearest neighbors. I should not wonder if the Catholics were to make a saint of you, like your namesake of old; especially as you have almost avowed41 yourself of their religion, by undertaking42 to keep the lamp alight before the Virgin’s shrine.”
“No, no, Miriam!” said Hilda, who had come joyfully43 forward to greet her friend. “You must not call me a Catholic. A Christian44 girl—even a daughter of the Puritans—may surely pay honor to the idea of divine Womanhood, without giving up the faith of her forefathers45. But how kind you are to climb into my dove-cote!”
“It is no trifling46 proof of friendship, indeed,” answered Miriam; “I should think there were three hundred stairs at least.”
“But it will do you good,” continued Hilda. “A height of some fifty feet above the roofs of Rome gives me all the advantages that I could get from fifty miles of distance. The air so exhilarates my spirits, that sometimes I feel half inclined to attempt a flight from the top of my tower, in the faith that I should float upward.”
“O, pray don’t try it!” said Miriam, laughing; “If it should turn out that you are less than an angel, you would find the stones of the Roman pavement very hard; and if an angel, indeed, I am afraid you would never come down among us again.”
This young American girl was an example of the freedom of life which it is possible for a female artist to enjoy at Rome. She dwelt in her tower, as free to descend47 into the corrupted48 atmosphere of the city beneath, as one of her companion doves to fly downward into the street;—all alone, perfectly49 independent, under her own sole guardianship50, unless watched over by the Virgin, whose shrine she tended; doing what she liked without a suspicion or a shadow upon the snowy whiteness of her fame. The customs of artist life bestow51 such liberty upon the sex, which is elsewhere restricted within so much narrower limits; and it is perhaps an indication that, whenever we admit women to a wider scope of pursuits and professions, we must also remove the shackles52 of our present conventional rules, which would then become an insufferable restraint on either maid or wife. The system seems to work unexceptionably in Rome; and in many other cases, as in Hilda’s, purity of heart and life are allowed to assert themselves, and to be their own proof and security, to a degree unknown in the society of other cities.
Hilda, in her native land, had early shown what was pronounced by connoisseurs53 a decided54 genius for the pictorial55 art. Even in her schooldays—still not so very distant—she had produced sketches56 that were seized upon by men of taste, and hoarded57 as among the choicest treasures of their portfolios58; scenes delicately imagined, lacking, perhaps, the reality which comes only from a close acquaintance with life, but so softly touched with feeling and fancy that you seemed to be looking at humanity with angels’ eyes. With years and experience she might be expected to attain59 a darker and more forcible touch, which would impart to her designs the relief they needed. Had Hilda remained in her own country, it is not improbable that she might have produced original works worthy to hang in that gallery of native art which, we hope, is destined60 to extend its rich length through many future centuries. An orphan61, however, without near relatives, and possessed62 of a little property, she had found it within her possibilities to come to Italy; that central clime, whither the eyes and the heart of every artist turn, as if pictures could not be made to glow in any other atmosphere, as if statues could not assume grace and expression, save in that land of whitest marble.
Hilda’s gentle courage had brought her safely over land and sea; her mild, unflagging perseverance63 had made a place for her in the famous city, even like a flower that finds a chink for itself, and a little earth to grow in, on whatever ancient wall its slender roots may fasten. Here she dwelt, in her tower, possessing a friend or two in Rome, but no home companion except the flock of doves, whose cote was in a ruinous chamber64 contiguous to her own. They soon became as familiar with the fair-haired Saxon girl as if she were a born sister of their brood; and her customary white robe bore such an analogy to their snowy plumage that the confraternity of artists called Hilda the Dove, and recognized her aerial apartment as the Dovecote. And while the other doves flew far and wide in quest of what was good for them, Hilda likewise spread her wings, and sought such ethereal and imaginative sustenance65 as God ordains66 for creatures of her kind.
We know not whether the result of her Italian studies, so far as it could yet be seen, will be accepted as a good or desirable one. Certain it is, that since her arrival in the pictorial land, Hilda seemed to have entirely67 lost the impulse of original design, which brought her thither68. No doubt the girl’s early dreams had been of sending forms and hues69 of beauty into the visible world out of her own mind; of compelling scenes of poetry and history to live before men’s eyes, through conceptions and by methods individual to herself. But more and more, as she grew familiar with the miracles of art that enrich so many galleries in Rome, Hilda had ceased to consider herself as an original artist. No, wonder that this change should have befallen her. She was endowed with a deep and sensitive faculty70 of appreciation71; she had the gift of discerning and worshipping excellence72 in a most unusual measure. No other person, it is probable, recognized so adequately, and enjoyed with such deep delight, the pictorial wonders that were here displayed. She saw no, not saw, but felt through and through a picture; she bestowed73 upon it all the warmth and richness of a woman’s sympathy; not by any intellectual effort, but by this strength of heart, and this guiding light of sympathy, she went straight to the central point, in which the master had conceived his work. Thus she viewed it, as it were, with his own eyes, and hence her comprehension of any picture that interested her was perfect.
This power and depth of appreciation depended partly upon Hilda’s physical organization, which was at once healthful and exquisitely74 delicate; and, connected with this advantage, she had a command of hand, a nicety and force of touch, which is an endowment separate from pictorial genius, though indispensable to its exercise.
It has probably happened in many other instances, as it did in Hilda’s case, that she ceased to aim at original achievement in consequence of the very gifts which so exquisitely fitted her to profit by familiarity with the works of the mighty75 old masters. Reverencing76 these wonderful men so deeply, she was too grateful for all they bestowed upon her, too loyal, too humble77, in their awful presence, to think of enrolling78 herself in their society. Beholding80 the miracles of beauty which they had achieved, the world seemed already rich enough in original designs, and nothing more was so desirable as to diffuse81 those self-same beauties more widely among mankind. All the youthful hopes and ambitions, the fanciful ideas which she had brought from home, of great pictures to be conceived in her feminine mind, were flung aside, and, so far as those most intimate with her could discern, relinquished82 without a sigh. All that she would henceforth attempt and that most reverently84, not to say religiously was to catch and reflect some of the glory which had been shed upon canvas from the immortal85 pencils of old.
So Hilda became a copyist: in the Pinacotheca of the Vatican, in the galleries of the Pam-fili-Doria palace, the Borghese, the Corsini, the Sciarra, her easel was set up before many a famous picture by Guido, Domenichino, Raphael, and the devout86 painters of earlier schools than these. Other artists and visitors from foreign lands beheld87 the slender, girlish figure in front of some world-known work, absorbed, unconscious of everything around her, seeming to live only in what she sought to do. They smiled, no doubt, at the audacity88 which led her to dream of copying those mighty achievements. But, if they paused to look over her shoulder, and had sensibility enough to understand what was before their eyes, they soon felt inclined to believe that the spirits of the old masters were hovering89 over Hilda, and guiding her delicate white hand. In truth, from whatever realm of bliss90 and many colored beauty those spirits might descend, it would have been no unworthy errand to help so gentle and pure a worshipper of their genius in giving the last divine touch to her repetitions of their works.
Her copies were indeed marvellous. Accuracy was not the phrase for them; a Chinese copy is accurate. Hilda’s had that evanescent and ethereal life—that flitting fragrance, as it were, of the originals—which it is as difficult to catch and retain as it would be for a sculptor91 to get the very movement and varying color of a living man into his marble bust30. Only by watching the efforts of the most skilful92 copyists—men who spend a lifetime, as some of them do, in multiplying copies of a single picture—and observing how invariably they leave out just the indefinable charm that involves the last, inestimable value, can we understand the difficulties of the task which they undertake.
It was not Hilda’s general practice to attempt reproducing the whole of a great picture, but to select some high, noble, and delicate portion of it, in which the spirit and essence of the picture culminated93: the Virgin’s celestial94 sorrow, for example, or a hovering angel, imbued95 with immortal light, or a saint with the glow of heaven in his dying face,—and these would be rendered with her whole soul. If a picture had darkened into an indistinct shadow through time and neglect, or had been injured by cleaning, or retouched by some profane96 hand, she seemed to possess the faculty of seeing it in its pristine97 glory. The copy would come from her hands with what the beholder98 felt must be the light which the old master had left upon the original in bestowing99 his final and most ethereal touch. In some instances even (at least, so those believed who best appreciated Hilda’s power and sensibility) she had been enabled to execute what the great master had conceived in his imagination, but had not so perfectly succeeded in putting upon canvas; a result surely not impossible when such depth of sympathy as she possessed was assisted by the delicate skill and accuracy of her slender hand. In such cases the girl was but a finer instrument, a more exquisitely effective piece of mechanism100, by the help of which the spirit of some great departed painter now first achieved his ideal, centuries after his own earthly hand, that other tool, had turned to dust.
Not to describe her as too much a wonder, however, Hilda, or the Dove, as her well-wishers half laughingly delighted to call her, had been pronounced by good judges incomparably the best copyist in Rome. After minute examination of her works, the most skilful artists declared that she had been led to her results by following precisely101 the same process step by step through which the original painter had trodden to the development of his idea. Other copyists—if such they are worthy to be called—attempt only a superficial imitation. Copies of the old masters in this sense are produced by thousands; there are artists, as we have said, who spend their lives in painting the works, or perhaps one single work, of one illustrious painter over and over again: thus they convert themselves into Guido machines, or Raphaelic machines. Their performances, it is true, are often wonderfully deceptive102 to a careless eye; but working entirely from the outside, and seeking only to reproduce the surface, these men are sure to leave out that indefinable nothing, that inestimable something, that constitutes the life and soul through which the picture gets its immortality103. Hilda was no such machine as this; she wrought104 religiously, and therefore wrought a miracle.
It strikes us that there is something far higher and nobler in all this, in her thus sacrificing herself to the devout recognition of the highest excellence in art, than there would have been in cultivating her not inconsiderable share of talent for the production of works from her own ideas. She might have set up for herself, and won no ignoble105 name; she might have helped to fill the already crowded and cumbered world with pictures, not destitute106 of merit, but falling short, if by ever so little, of the best that has been done; she might thus have gratified some tastes that were incapable107 of appreciating Raphael. But this could be done only by lowering the standard of art to the comprehension of the spectator. She chose the better and loftier and more unselfish part, laying her individual hopes, her fame, her prospects108 of enduring remembrance, at the feet of those great departed ones whom she so loved and venerated109; and therefore the world was the richer for this feeble girl.
Since the beauty and glory of a great picture are confined within itself, she won out that glory by patient faith and self-devotion, and multiplied it for mankind. From the dark, chill corner of a gallery,—from some curtained chapel110 in a church, where the light came seldom and aslant,—from the prince’s carefully guarded cabinet, where not one eye in thousands was permitted to behold79 it, she brought the wondrous111 picture into daylight, and gave all its magic splendor112 for the enjoyment113 of the world. Hilda’s faculty of genuine admiration114 is one of the rarest to be found in human nature; and let us try to recompense her in kind by admiring her generous self-surrender, and her brave, humble magnanimity in choosing to be the handmaid of those old magicians, instead of a minor115 enchantress within a circle of her own.
The handmaid of Raphael, whom she loved with a virgin’s love! Would it have been worth Hilda’s while to relinquish83 this office for the sake of giving the world a picture or two which it would call original; pretty fancies of snow and moonlight; the counterpart in picture of so many feminine achievements in literature!
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1
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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kernels
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| 谷粒( kernel的名词复数 )； 仁； 核； 要点 | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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pinnacles
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| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
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trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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beaks
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| n.鸟嘴( beak的名词复数 )；鹰钩嘴；尖鼻子；掌权者 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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avowed
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| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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corrupted
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| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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shackles
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| 手铐( shackle的名词复数 )； 脚镣； 束缚； 羁绊 | |
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connoisseurs
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| n.鉴赏家，鉴定家，行家( connoisseur的名词复数 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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pictorial
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| adj.绘画的；图片的；n．画报 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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hoarded
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| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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portfolios
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| n.投资组合( portfolio的名词复数 )；（保险）业务量；（公司或机构提供的）系列产品；纸夹 | |
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59
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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62
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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ordains
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的第三人称单数 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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reverencing
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| v.尊敬，崇敬( reverence的现在分词 )；敬礼 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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enrolling
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| v.招收( enrol的现在分词 )；吸收；入学；加入；[亦作enrol]( enroll的现在分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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diffuse
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| v.扩散；传播；adj.冗长的；四散的，弥漫的 | |
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relinquished
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
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83
relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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culminated
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| v.达到极点( culminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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pristine
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| adj.原来的，古时的，原始的，纯净的，无垢的 | |
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beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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103
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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104
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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106
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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107
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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108
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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venerated
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| 敬重（某人或某事物），崇敬( venerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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111
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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112
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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113
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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114
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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115
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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