belongs also to
the poor in art, that the worthy painter was satisfied with his work
and would not joyfully abandon his trade, if he had learned anything
else? I'll wager that most of these gentlemen, who pretend to glow with
the sacred fire of genius, would not hesitate a moment, as they've only
got into the habit of painting, as old Schadow said, to get out of it
again, if they were better paid for their idleness, than for their
bungling industry.'

"Well, he's not usually so unjust. You know, my friend, what a part
materialism plays at the present day, even in art. But the cold,
_blase_ tone thoroughly enraged me, as I know the condition of the
so-called sacred fire of art in His Highness' own breast. Just at that
moment I saw our zaunkoenig, with his good, modest face, standing at
some little distance, almost alarmed to see people linger so long
before his insignificant picture. 'Suppose you make the trial, your
Highness,' I hastily replied. 'The artist who painted this picture is
close at hand. My Mantegna against your Luini, that no money in the
world will induce this worthy man to sell the pleasure of occasionally
sending such a little abomination of art into the world. But we must go
to work delicately. An open offer would mortally offend his pride.
Propose to give him a yearly salary, on condition that he does not
touch a brush except for you, and must wait till you give him orders.
I'll declare your Taddeo Gaddi genuine, if the little artist can hold
out even a twelvemonth, without scrawling his hedges and foregrounds.'

"What do you say to this malicious wager? Shameful, my dear fellow,
wasn't it? But it popped out all at once, and really my Maecenos was
prince and Russian enough to think the trick very clever. I was ashamed
of myself, when the zaunkoenig was summoned and showed a touching
confusion, when he heard that his 'speciality' had at last found the
right purchaser. 'How much do you earn by your painting in the most
successful years?' asked the prince. 'Three hundred thalers at the
most,' was the reply. 'Well, I'll give you a thousand, and from this
time you're my court painter. You'll receive your salary from the
embassy every six months, and in return bind yourself not to touch a
brush except to execute my orders. Adieu!'

"So the good little man stood as if he had suddenly fallen from the
clouds, surrounded by several perplexed, envious colleagues, who were
paying him sarcastic compliments. But