her husband from his labors； proud to triumph over her rival； his Art。
And； indeed； a woman's caresses scare away the Muse； and break down
the sturdy； brutal resolution of the worker。
Six or seven months slipped by； and the artist's fingers had forgotten
the use of the modeling tool。 When the need for work began to be felt；
when the Prince de Wissembourg； president of the committee of
subscribers； asked to see the statue； Wenceslas spoke the inevitable
byword of the idler； 〃I am just going to work on it；〃 and he lulled
his dear Hortense with fallacious promises and the magnificent schemes
of the artist as he smokes。 Hortense loved her poet more than ever；
she dreamed of a sublime statue of Marshal Montcornet。 Montcornet
would be the embodied ideal of bravery； the type of the cavalry
officer； of courage /a la Murat/。 Yes； yes； at the mere sight of that
statue all the Emperor's victories were to seem a foregone conclusion。
And then such workmanship！ The pencil was accommodating and answered
to the word。
By way of a statue the result was a delightful little Wenceslas。
When the progress of affairs required that he should go to the studio
at le Gros…Caillou to mould the clay and set up the life…size model；
Steinbock found one day that the Prince's clock required his presence
in the workshop of Florent and Chanor； where the figures were being
finished； or； again； the light was gray and dull； to…day he had
business to do； to…morrow they had a family dinner； to say nothing of
indispositions of mind and body； and the days when he stayed at home
to toy with his adored wife。
Marshal the Prince de Wissembourg was obliged to be angry to get the
clay model finished； he declared that he must put the work into other
hands。 It was only by dint of endless complaints and much strong
language that the committee of subscribers succeeded in seeing the
plaster…cast。 Day after day Steinbock came home； evidently tired；
complaining of this 〃hodman's work〃 and his own physical weakness。
During that first year the household felt no pinch； the Countess
Steinbock； desperately in love with her husband cursed the War
Minister。 She went to see him； she told him that great works of art
were not to be manufactured like cannon； and that the Statelike
Louis XIV。； Francis I。； and Leo X。ought to be at the beck and call
of genius。 Poor Hortense； believing she held a Phidias in her embrace；
had the sort of motherly cowardice for her Wenceslas that is in every
wife who carries her love to the pitch of idolatry。
〃Do not be hurried；〃 said she to her husband； 〃our whole future life
is bound up with that statue。 Take your time and produce a
masterpiece。〃
She would go to the studio； and then the enraptured Steinbock wasted
five hours out of seven in describing the statue instead of working at
it。 He thus spent eighteen months in finishing the design； which to
him was all…important。
When the plaster was cast and the model complete； poor Hortense； who
had looked on at her husband's toil； seeing his health really suffer
from the exertions which exhaust a sculptor's frame and arms and hands
Hortense thought the result admirable。 Her father； who knew nothing
of sculpture； and her mother； no less ignorant； lauded it as a
triumph； the War Minister came with them to see it； and； overruled by
them； expressed approval of the figure； standing as it did alone； in a
favorable light； thrown up against a green baize background。
Alas！ at the exhibition of 1841； the disapprobation of the public soon
took the form of abuse and mockery in the mouths of those who were
indignant with the idol too hastily set up for worship。 Stidmann tried
to advise his friend； but was accused of jealousy。 Every article in a
newspaper was to Hortense an outcry of envy。 Stidmann； the best of
good fellows； got articles written； in which adverse criticism was
contravened； and it was pointed out that sculptors altered their works
in translating the plaster into marble； and that the marble would be
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