the test。
〃In reproducing the plaster sketch in marble；〃 wrote Claude Vignon； 〃a
masterpiece may be ruined； or a bad design made beautiful。 The plaster
is the manuscript； the marble is the book。〃
So in two years and a half Wenceslas had produced a statue and a son。
The child was a picture of beauty； the statue was execrable。
The clock for the Prince and the price of the statue paid off the
young couple's debts。 Steinbock had acquired fashionable habits； he
went to the play； to the opera； he talked admirably about art； and in
the eyes of the world he maintained his reputation as a great artist
by his powers of conversation and criticism。 There are many clever men
in Paris who spend their lives in talking themselves out； and are
content with a sort of drawing…room celebrity。 Steinbock； emulating
these emasculated but charming men； grew every day more averse to hard
work。 As soon as he began a thing； he was conscious of all its
difficulties； and the discouragement that came over him enervated his
will。 Inspiration； the frenzy of intellectual procreation； flew
swiftly away at the sight of this effete lover。
Sculpturelike dramatic artis at once the most difficult and the
easiest of all arts。 You have but to copy a model； and the task is
done； but to give it a soul； to make it typical by creating a man or a
womanthis is the sin of Prometheus。 Such triumphs in the annals of
sculpture may be counted； as we may count the few poets among men。
Michael Angelo； Michel Columb； Jean Goujon； Phidias； Praxiteles；
Polycletes； Puget； Canova； Albert Durer； are the brothers of Milton；
Virgil； Dante； Shakespeare； Tasso； Homer； and Moliere。 And such an
achievement is so stupendous that a single statue is enough to make a
man immortal； as Figaro； Lovelace； and Manon Lescaut have immortalized
Beaumarchais； Richardson； and the Abbe Prevost。
Superficial thinkersand there are many in the artist worldhave
asserted that sculpture lives only by the nude； that it died with the
Greeks； and that modern vesture makes it impossible。 But； in the first
place； the Ancients have left sublime statues entirely clothedthe
/Polyhymnia/； the /Julia/； and others； and we have not found one…tenth
of all their works； and then； let any lover of art go to Florence and
see Michael Angelo's /Penseroso/； or to the Cathedral of Mainz； and
behold the /Virgin/ by Albert Durer； who has created a living woman
out of ebony； under her threefold drapery； with the most flowing； the
softest hair that ever a waiting…maid combed through； let all the
ignorant flock thither； and they will acknowledge that genius can give
mind to drapery； to armor； to a robe； and fill it with a body； just as
a man leaves the stamp of his individuality and habits of life on the
clothes he wears。
Sculpture is the perpetual realization of the fact which once； and
never again； was； in painting called Raphael！
The solution of this hard problem is to be found only in constant
persevering toil； for； merely to overcome the material difficulties to
such an extent； the hand must be so practised； so dexterous and
obedient； that the sculptor may be free to struggle soul to soul with
the elusive moral element that he has to transfigure as he embodies
it。 If Paganini； who uttered his soul through the strings of his
violin； spent three days without practising； he lost what he called
the /stops/ of his instrument； meaning the sympathy between the wooden
frame； the strings； the bow； and himself； if he had lost this
alliance； he would have been no more than an ordinary player。
Perpetual work is the law of art； as it is the law of life； for art is
idealized creation。 Hence great artists and perfect poets wait neither
for commission nor for purchasers。 They are constantly creating
to…day； to…morrow； always。 The result is the habit of work； the
unfailing apprehension of the difficulties which keep them in close
intercourse with the Muse and her productive forces。 Canova lived in
his studio； as Voltaire lived in his study； and so must Homer and
Phidias have lived。
While Lisbeth kept Wenceslas Steinbock in thraldom in his garret； he
was on the thorny road trodden by all these great men； which leads to
the Alpine heights of glory。 Then happiness； in the person of
Hortense； had reduced the poet to idlenessthe normal condition of
all artists； since to them idleness is fully occupied。 Their joy is
such as that of the pasha of a seraglio； they revel with ideas； they
get drunk at the founts of intellect。 Great artists； such as
Steinbock； wrapped in reverie； are rightly spoken of as dreamers。
They； like opium…eaters； all sink into poverty； whereas if they had
been kept up to the mark by the stern demands of life； they might have
been great men。
At the same time； these half…artists are delightful； men like them and
cram them with praise； they even seem superior to the true artists；
who are taxed with conceit； unsociableness； contempt of the laws of
society。 This is why： Great men are the slaves of their work。 Their
indifference to outer things； their devotion to their work； make
simpletons regard them as egotists； and they are expected to wear the
same garb as the dandy who fulfils the trivial evolutions called
social duties。 These men want the lions of the Atlas to be combed and
scented like a lady's poodle。
These artists； who are too rarely matched to meet their fellows； fall
into habits of solitary exclusiveness； they are inexplicable to the
majority； which； as we know； consists mostly of foolsof the envious；
the ignorant； and the superficial。
Now you may imagine what part a wife should play in the life of these
glorious and exceptional beings。 She ought to be what； for five years；
Lisbeth had been； but with the added offering of love； humble and
patient love； always ready and always smiling。
Hortense； enlightened by her anxieties as a mother； and driven by dire
necessity； had discovered too late the mistakes she had been
involuntarily led into by her excessive love。 Still； the worthy
daughter of her mother； her heart ached at the thought of worrying
Wenceslas； she loved her dear poet too much to become his torturer；
and she could foresee the hour when beggary awaited her； her child；
and her husband。
〃Come； come； my child；〃 said Lisbeth； seeing the tears in her cousin's
lovely eyes； 〃you must not despair。 A glassful of tears will not buy a
plate of soup。 How much do you want？〃
〃Well； five or six thousand francs。〃
〃I have but three thousand at the most；〃 said Lisbeth。 〃And what is
Wenceslas doing now？〃
〃He has had an offer to work in partnership with Stidmann at a table
service for the Duc d'Herouville for six thousand francs。 Then
Monsieur Chanor will advance four thousand to repay Monsieur de Lora
and Bridaua debt of honor。〃
〃What； you have had the money for the statue and the bas…reliefs for
Marshal Montcornet's monument； and you have not paid them yet？〃
〃For the last three years；〃 said Hortense； 〃we have spent twelve
thousand francs a year； and I have but a hundred louis a year of my
own。 The Marshal's monument； when all the expenses were paid； brought
us no more than sixteen thousand francs。 Really and truly； if
Wenceslas gets no work； I do not know what is to become of us。 Oh； if
only I could learn to make statues； I would handle the clay！〃 she
cried； holding up her fine arms。
The woman； it was plain； fulfilled the promise of the girl； there was
a flash in her eye； impetuous blood； strong with iron； flowed in her
veins； she felt that she was wasting her energy in carrying her
infant。
〃Ah； my poor little thing！ a sensible girl should not marry an artist
till his fortune is madenot while it is still to make。〃
At this moment they heard voices； Stidmann and Wenceslas were seeing
Chanor to the door； then Wenceslas and Stidmann came in again。
Stidmann； an artist in vogue in the world of journalists； famous
actresses； and courtesans of the better class； was a young man of
fashion whom Valerie much wished to see in her rooms； indeed； he had
already been introduced to her by Claude Vignon。 Stidmann had lately
broken off an intimacy with Madame Schontz； who had married some
months since and gone to live in the country。 Valerie and Lisbeth；
hearing of this upheaval from Claude Vignon； thought it well to get
Steinbock's friend to visit in the Rue Vanneau。
Stidmann； out of good feeling； went rarely to the Steinbocks'； and as
it happened that Lisbeth was not present when he was introduced by
Claude Vignon； she now saw him for the first time。 As she watched this
noted artist； she caught certain glances from his eyes at Hortense；
which suggested to her the possibility of offering him to the Countess
Steinbock as a consolation if Wenceslas should be false to her。 In
point of fact； Stidmann was reflecting that if Steinbock were not his
friend； Hortense； the young and superbly beautiful countess； would be
an adorable mistress； it was this very notion； controlled by honor；
that kept him away from the house。 Lisbeth was quick to mark the
significant awkwardness that troubles a man in the presence of a woman
with whom he will not allow himself to flirt。
〃Very good…lookingthat