The truth came out too late to influence the decision of the committee; the die was cast, and his whole future was changed in the twinkling of an eye; for what had been to him a joy and an inspiration, he now turned from in despair.

He could not, of course, realize at the time that Fate, in dealing him this cruel blow, was dedicating him to a higher destiny.

It is doubtful if he ever fully realized this, for in after years he could never speak of it unmoved.

In a letter to this same friend, Fenimore Cooper, written on November 20, 1849, he thus laments:-- "Alas! My dear sir, the very name of _pictures_ produces a sadness of heart I cannot describe.

Painting has been a smiling mistress to many, but she has been a cruel jilt to me.