sing like the Master, but overpowered by a sense ofincapacity, his voice failed, and he felt disposed to cry.
"Why, Joachim, I thought you were such a clever creature you couldimitate any thing," cried the Mother.
No answer fell from the abashed boy, till a sudden thought revivedhim.
"But I _can_ imitate the singing-master, Mother."
"Let me hear you, my dear child."
"Why it isn't exactly what you can hear," observed Joachimmurmuringly; "but when he sings, you have no idea what horrible faceshe makes. Nay, it's true, indeed, he turns up his eyes, shuts them,distorts his mouth, and swings about on the stool like the pendulum ofa clock!"
And Joachim performed all the grimaces and contortions to perfection,till his Aunt and Cousins were convulsed with laughter.
"Well done," cried his Mother. "Now you are indeed like the cat in theGerman fable, Joachim! who voted himself like the bear, because hecould lick his paws after the same fashion, though he could notimitate either his courage or his strength. Now let me look a littlefurther into your education. Bring me your drawing-book." It came, andthere was page after page of odd and ugly faces, strange noses,stranger eyes, squinting out of the book in hideous array.
"I suppose you will laugh again if I ask you if these are the_beauties_ of your school, Joachim;--but tell me seriously, are thereno good, pleasant, or handsome faces among your schoolfellows?"
"Plenty, Mother; one or two the Master calls models, and who often sitto him to be drawn from."
"Draw one of those faces for me, my dear; I am fond of beauty." Andthe Mother placed the book in his hands, pointing to a blank page.
Joachim took a pencil, and sat down. _Now_ he thought he should beable to please his Mother; but, alas, he found to his surprise, thatthe fine faces he tried to recall had not left that vivid impressionon his brain which enabled him to represent them. On the contrary, hewas tormented and baffled by visions of the odd forms and grotesquecountenances he had so often pictured. He seized the Indian-rubber andrubbed out nose after nose to no purpose, for he never could replacethem with a better. Drawing was his favourite amusement; and thisdisappointment, where he expected success, broke down his alreadydepressed heart. He threw the book from him, and burst into a flood oftears.
"Joachim! have you drawn him? What makes you cry?"
"I cannot draw him, Mother," sobbed the distressed boy.
"And why not? Just look here; here is an admirable likeness ofsquinting Joe, as you have named him. Why cannot you draw the handsomeboy?"
"Because his face is so handsome!" answered Joachim, still sobbing.
"My son," said his Mother gravely, "you have now a sad lesson tolearn, but a necessary and a wholesome one. Get up, desist fromcrying, and listen to me."
Poor Joachim, who loved his mother dearly, obeyed.
"Joachim! your Aunt, and your Cousins, and your schoolfellows have allcalled you clever. In what does your cleverness consist? I will tellyou. In the Reproduction of Deformity, Defects, Failings, andMisfortunes of every sort, that fall under your observation. A worthyemployment truly! A noble ambition! But I will now tell you the truthabout yourself. You never heard it before, and I feel sure you willbenefit now. A good or an evil Genie, I know not which, has bestowedupon you a great power; and you have misused it. Do you know what thatpower is?"
Joachim shook his head, though he trembled all over, for he felt as ifawaking from along dream, to the recollection of the Genie.
"It is the power of Imitation, Joachim; I call it a great power, forit is essential to many great and useful things. It is essential tothe orator, the linguist, the artist, and the musician. Nature herselfteaches us the charm of _imitation_, when in the smooth and clear lakeyou see the lovely landscape around mirrored and _repeated_.[5] What alesson may we not read in this sight! The commonest pond even thatreflects the foliage of the tree that hangs over it, is calling out tous to reproduce for the solace and ornament of life, the beautifulworks of God. But oh, my son, my dear son, you have abused this giftof Imitation, which might be such a blessing and pleasure to you."
[5] Schiller.--"Der Kuenstler."
"You might, if you chose, _imitate every thing that is good, andnoble, and virtuous, and beautiful_; and you are, instead of that,reproducing every aspect of deformity that crosses your path, untilyour brain is so stamped with images of defects, ugliness, anduncouthness, that your hand and head refuse their office, when I callupon you to reproduce the beauties with which the world is graced."
I doubt if Joachim heard the latter part of his Mother's speech. Atthe recurrence to the old sentence, a gleam of lightning seemed toshoot across his brain. Latent memories were aroused as keenly as ifthe events had but just occurred, and he sank at his Mother's feet.
When she ceased to speak, he arose.
"Mother," said he, "I have been living in a cloud. I have been verywrong. Besides which, I have a secret to tell you. Nay, my Aunt mayhear. It has been a secret, and then it has been forgotten; but now Iremember all, and understand far more than I once did."
Here Joachim recounted to his Mother the whole story of her words tohim, and his adventure with the Genie and the bottle; and then, veryslowly, and interrupted by many tears of repentance, he repeated whatthe Genie had said about giving him _the power_ of imitation, addingthat the use he made of it must depend on himself and the great Rulerof the heart and conscience.
There was a great fuss among the Cousins at the notion of Joachimhaving talked to a Genie; and, to tell you the truth, this was allthey thought about, and soon after took their leave. The heart ofJoachim's Mother was at rest, however: for though she knew how hardher son would find it to alter what had become a habit of life, sheknew that he was a good and pious boy, and she saw that he was fullyalive to his error.
"Oh Mother," said he, during the course of that evening, "how plain Isee it all now! The boy that stutters is a model of obedience andtenderness; I ought to have dwelt upon and imitated that, and, oh! Ithought only of his stuttering. The boy that walks so clumsily, aswell as the great fellow that lisps, are such industrious lads, and soadvanced in learning, that the master thinks both will bedistinguished hereafter; and I, who--(oh, my poor mother, I mustconfess to you)--hated to labour at any thing, and have got the boysto do my lessons for me;--I, instead of imitating their industry, lostall my time in ridiculing their defects.--What shall--what shall Ido!"
The next morning poor Joachim said his prayers more humbly than he hadever before done in his life; and, kissing his mother, went to school.The first thing he did on arriving was to go up to the big boy, whohad beaten him, and beg him to shake hands.
The big boy was pleased, and a grim smile lightened up his face. "But,old fellow," said he, laying his hand on Joachim's shoulder, "take afriend's advice. There is good in all of us, depend upon it. Look outfor all that's good, and let the bad points take care of themselves._You_ won't get any handsomer, by squinting like poor Joe; nor speakany pleasanter for lisping like me; nor walk any better for apeinghobbling. But the ugliest of us have some good about us. Look out for_that_, my little lad; I do, or I should not be talking to you! I seethat you are honest and forgiving, though you _are_ a monkey! Therenow, I must go on with my lessons! You do yours!"
Never was better advice given, and Joachim took it well, and bore itbravely; but, oh, how hard it was to his mind, accustomed for so longto wander away and seek amusement at wrong times, to settle downresolutely and laboriously to study. He made a strong effort, however;and though he had often to recall his thoughts, he in a measuresucceeded.
After school-hours he begged the big boy to come and sit by him, andthen he requested his old friends and companions to listen to a storyhe had to tell them. They expected something funny, and many a broadgrin was seen; but poor Joachim's eyes were yet red with weeping, andhis gay voice was so subdued, the party soon became grave andwondering, and then Joachim told them every thing. They were delightedto hear about the Genie, and were also pleased to find themse
lves safefrom Joachim's ridicule. It could not be expected they should allunderstand the story, but the big boy did, and became Joachim'sgreatest friend and adviser.
That evening our little friend, exhausted with the efforts andexcitement of his almost first day of repentance, strolled out in asomewhat pensive mood to his favourite haunt, the sea shore. A stormysunset greeted his arrival on the beach, but the tide was ebbing, andhe wandered on till he reached some caverns among the cliffs. Andthere, as had often been his wont, he sat down to gaze out upon thewaste of waters safe and protected from harm. It is very probable thathe fell asleep--but the point could never be clearly known, for healways said it was no sleep and no dream he had then, but that, whilstsitting in the inmost recesses of the cave, he saw once more his oldfriend the Genie,