Rarities, valuable as such not alone to the art-lover, are the "Healing of the Blind," by Lucas van Leyden, the "Maid under the Apple-Tree," by Lucas Cranach, a triumphant Madonna, by Quentin Massys—faithful, honest works which the pious masters laid with devotion on the golden ground. No sensible person will deride them, for they are still governed in their conceptions by the carefully obeyed rules of symmetry. In the attachement there is such depth of characterization, such affection and warmth, that many a masterpiece must be placed much below them. For enthusiasm of conception and conscientious execution are, after all, of deciding moment in every unbiased judgment. But the technique belongs to the time and not to the individual.
The French of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries conclude the group. The Germans have never succeeded in placing themselves in a true relation to this art that is rhetorical and theatrical rather than really poetical. Yet we shall never be wanting in respect to others, especially to the masters Poussin and Claude Lorrain. The landscapes of a heroic-mythological character that represent them in the Hermitage are monuments of respectable ability.
Of real charm, however, are the piquant genre masters Fragonard and Watteau, who were held in such deep contempt in the virtuous years of the Revolution, that no one dared to pay even fifty francs for their frivolous paintings. They are represented by excellent pieces, as well as the more serious master Greuze, whose "Death of an Old Man" would do honor even to our good Knaus. Boucher and Lancret justly deserve our attention. But Marguerite Gerard, the sister-in law of Fragonard, and Jean B. Chardin, have quite inconspicuously realized a goodly portion of the impressionist programme without devoting themselves merely to problems of light and shade. The "Mother's Happiness" of the former does full justice to the charming scene and easily solves a problem in interiors. The same is true of Chardin's "Washerwomen." There is positively nothing new under the sun. It is only the one or the other side of the universal knowledge of the great masters acclaimed as an entirely new discovery. Then follow actions and reactions, and thus the so-called art history is formed, the rise and fall among a few high peaks and nothing more.
One day we found a whole row of rooms closed, just those that contained our favorites of the Rembrandt gallery. What was the cause of it? Preparations were being made for the Czar's dinner. A great court dinner is given every Friday in the splendid halls of the Hermitage, and suitable preparations are made on the previous day. Flowers are placed everywhere, dishes and silver are brought and kept under special watch. The Czar's table is placed in the large Italian hall; the courtier's tables in the adjoining halls. The conservatories and prominent artists have already petitioned for the abolition of this barbaric custom, for the vapors from the viands do not in any wise contribute to the preservation of the costly paintings. But how are exhortations of warning to reach the Czar's ear? They are derided by the servile courtiers, and held up to scorn as professional fancies of but little significance when compared with the wish of princes to dine among the finest works of art in the world. The consciousness that great works of art are merely kept in trust by their passing owners, kept for their true owner, progress-making humanity, has perhaps reached the better class, but has not been awakened in the autocracy, where even the conception of humanity has not yet been attained. They own pictures as they own crown jewels, and consider themselves at liberty to treat them as they please. But on such a matter the subject must remain silent; and he does. It is the environment that influences princes, whether for good or for evil. But the injury to a few paintings, however expensive, is not the worst that rests on the conscience of the ring in the Czar's court, just as the Hermitage is not the most objectionable feature of St. Petersburg. When the Russian empire shall have overcome the phase of barbarian mistrust for strangers and of oppressive police management, when it shall have really opened its gates, the Hermitage will become a true centre of attraction with few equals in the universe. Then will become common property those wonder works that to-day are still beyond the reach of common knowledge. In the Russia of to-day a treasury of culture like the Hermitage is almost an anachronism.
IX THE CAMORRA—A TALK WITH A RUSSIAN PRINCE
Before I report here a significant conversation I had with a prince, the friend and former confidant of the Czar, I would make an earnest appeal to the public opinion of Europe, for which these lines are intended. I have conversed with many men of the highest rank in Russia; I am indebted to them for most valuable information about the land of riddles, yet not a single interview was concluded without my informant asking me to withhold his name. Only the prince whose views I report here said to me, "If you need my name to prove the credibility of the most incredible things I had to tell you, you may use it without compunction. Possible suffering that may befall me because of this use of my name is of no consideration where the enlightenment of Europe is concerned." On mature deliberation I have preferred, however, not to mention his name here. I thus renounce the weight of a name of European repute and of unparalleled authority. Notwithstanding this, I still consider it necessary to ask public opinion of Europe to watch with redoubled care the fate of the few persons who have been my informants. It would not be right for me to suppress this report, for I should thus act in direct opposition to the wishes of the noble-minded prince. Neither could I disguise him entirely, since there are, after all, but few persons that could have made to me these disclosures on the helplessness of even the eminent patriots. And so I must resort to an appeal to the public opinion of Europe with proper caution. It can protect the prince. For with all their wickedness the Russian rulers still fear foreign public opinion. This and this alone has a certain influence on the Czar. Let it be exerted in behalf of a man of the greatest heroism, who makes appeal to it out of pure patriotism.
"Does your highness think," I asked, in the interview I am about to report here, "that the discontent everywhere noticeable in all classes of society is real and of political significance?"
"We must make distinctions," answered the prince; "of its reality there is no doubt. But if you ask whether I consider it politically fruitful, in the same sense that we may gain through this discontent some necessary change in the present régime, I must answer, unfortunately, no."