"He set out at once to seek his former pupil, embraced him warmly, begged his forgiveness, and endeavoured as far as possible to excuse his own fault.His labours continued as before; but his face was more frequently thoughtful.He prayed more, grew more taciturn, and expressed himself less sharply about people: even the rough exterior of his character was modified to some extent.But a certain occurrence soon disturbed him more than ever.He had seen nothing for a long time of the comrade who had begged the portrait of him.He had already decided to hunt him up, when the latter suddenly made his appearance in his room.After a few words and questions on both sides, he said, 'Well, brother, it was not without cause that you wished to burn that portrait.Devil take it, there's something horrible about it! I don't believe in sorcerers; but, begging your pardon, there's an unclean spirit in it.'
"'How so?' asked my father.
"'Well, from the very moment I hung it up in my room I felt such depression--just as if I wanted to murder some one.I never knew in my life what sleeplessness was; but I suffered not from sleeplessness alone, but from such dreams!--I cannot tell whether they were dreams, or what; it was as if a demon were strangling one: and the old man appeared to me in my sleep.In short, I can't describe my state of mind.I had a sensation of fear, as if expecting something unpleasant.
I felt as if I could not speak a cheerful or sincere word to any one:
it was just as if a spy were sitting over me.But from the very hour that I gave that portrait to my nephew, who asked for it, I felt as if a stone had been rolled from my shoulders, and became cheerful, as you see me now.Well, brother, you painted the very Devil!'
"During this recital my father listened with unswerving attention, and finally inquired, 'And your nephew now has the portrait?'
"'My nephew, indeed! he could not stand it!' said the jolly fellow:
'do you know, the soul of that usurer has migrated into it; he jumps out of the frame, walks about the room; and what my nephew tells of him is simply incomprehensible.I should take him for a lunatic, if Ihad not undergone a part of it myself.He sold it to some collector of pictures; and he could not stand it either, and got rid of it to some one else.'
"This story produced a deep impression on my father.He grew seriously pensive, fell into hypochondria, and finally became fully convinced that his brush had served as a tool of the Devil; and that a portion of the usurer's vitality had actually passed into the portrait, and was now troubling people, inspiring diabolical excitement, beguiling painters from the true path, producing the fearful torments of envy, and so forth.Three catastrophes which occurred afterwards, three sudden deaths of wife, daughter, and infant son, he regarded as a divine punishment on him, and firmly resolved to withdraw from the world.
"As soon as I was nine years old, he placed me in an academy of painting, and, paying all his debts, retired to a lonely cloister, where he soon afterwards took the vows.There he amazed every one by the strictness of his life, and his untiring observance of all the monastic rules.The prior of the monastery, hearing of his skill in painting, ordered him to paint the principal picture in the church.
But the humble brother said plainly that he was unworthy to touch a brush, that his was contaminated, that with toil and great sacrifice must he first purify his spirit in order to render himself fit to undertake such a task.He increased the rigours of monastic life for himself as much as possible.At last, even they became insufficient, and he retired, with the approval of the prior, into the desert, in order to be quite alone.There he constructed himself a cell from branches of trees, ate only uncooked roots, dragged about a stone from place to place, stood in one spot with his hands lifted to heaven, from the rising until the going down of the sun, reciting prayers without cessation.In this manner did he for several years exhaust his body, invigorating it, at the same time, with the strength of fervent prayer.
