ork; for
really you have been dreaming in a manner which appeared very painful,
whatever the experience might have been.'

Conrad rose, dressed, breakfasted, and did undoubtedly feel much more
comfortable and lighthearted than during the night. He was shortly
conducted to the chamber in which he had received so many powerful
impressions on the preceding evening, and forthwith commenced the task
he had engaged to perform. Conrad was by no means a young man of a
romantic or sentimental turn, but it is not to be wondered at, that
his present occupation should produce a deep effect upon his mind. The
form and features he was now endeavouring to portray were certainly
the most beautiful he had as yet exercised his art upon--indeed,
without exception, the most beautiful he had ever beheld. The
melancholy spectacle of youth cut off in the first glow of life's
brightest season, and when surrounded by everything that wealth and
education can contribute towards rendering existence brilliant and
delightful, can never fail to excite deep and solemn emotion. As the
artist laboured to give a faithful representation of the sweetly
serene face, the raven hair, the marble forehead, the delicately
arched brow, the exquisitely formed nose and mouth, and thought how
well such noble beauty seemed to suit one who was fit to die--a pure,
spotless, bright being--he had more than once to pause in his work
while he wiped the tears from his eyes. Few experiences chasten the
heart so powerfully as the sight of the early dead; those who live
among us a short while, happy and good, loving and beloved, and then
are suddenly taken away, ere the rough journey of life is well begun,
leaving us to travel on through the perilous and difficult world by
ourselves; no more sweet words for us, no more songs, no more
companionship, no more loving counsel and assistance--nothing now,
save the remembrance of beauty and purity departed. How potent is that
remembrance against the assaults of evil thoughts! How impressive the
thought of virtue in the shroud!

With one or two necessary intervals, Conrad worked throughout the day,
and until the declining light warned him to desist. The next morning
he resumed his pallet, and in about four or five hours brought his
task to a conclusion, taking, in addition to the painting he was
commissioned to make, a small crayon sketch for himself. It was his
wish to preserve some memento of what he regarded as the most
remarkab