"But I don't see any reason why we should not have as great painters in the United States as in Europe," added Paul.
"I do see the reason. Probably we have just as much talent for art in our nation, but the people find that it doesn't pay so well as developing the resources of a new country. When it is possible in America for a man to win the wealth and distinction which Rubens won, we shall be as successful in art as Europe has been; for Washington Allston, Benjamin West, and others have demonstrated the capacity of our people in this direction. The encouragement which artists receive makes the men. There are not many persons in our country who are willing to pay ten, fifty, or a hundred thousand dollars for a picture. So much money in a painting is dead capital among an energetic people who need all they can get to carry on agricultural, commercial, and manufacturing enterprises."
"Of course people will follow that calling which pays best, either in money or in reputation."
"Certainly, and the number of Dutch and Flemish artists assures us that painting has been a cherished art in the Low Countries. Vandyck was another celebrated painter of this country. He was born in Antwerp, and was a pupil of Rubens. There is a story that The Descent from the Cross was thrown down by the carelessness of a student, and badly injured by the fall. Vandyck, who was then a pupil of the great Flemish master, undertook to repair the mischief with his brush, and did it so well that Rubens declared the work was superior to his own. This story is current in the guide-books, and in the mouths of the commissionaires, who point out the places on the face of the Virgin and on the arm of one of the Marys where the pupil touched it up. But there is no truth in it, since the picture was hung up in the Cathedral before Vandyck entered the studio of Rubens."
"I suppose these people like to tell good stories, whether true or not."
"Yes; and you will find a man up in this steeple who believes that his spire is the tallest in the world," added Dr. Winstock.
They continued on their long ascent till they reached the region of the bells, where they found the attendant who glories in magnifying the wonders of the chimes and the spire. He had a small furnished apartment, which the visitors were invited to enter, and where he dispensed refreshments, of which no total abstinence man could partake. The doctor, knowing what the man had to say, skilfully turned his attention away from his favorite topic, until they were sufficiently refreshed—not by the eau de vie and noyau, but by the rest—to explore the bell towers.
The bells composing the chime were fixed in the lofts, which were filled with wires, cranks, and other machinery, used in operating them. In one place there was a bank of keys like those of an organ, where a person could play any tune he pleased upon the bells. The keeper had a history to relate of each bell, many of which were contributed by kings, princes, and lords, and bore their names. In another tower there was an immense bell, at the baptism of which—for church bells are duly consecrated in Catholic countries—the Emperor Charles V. stood as godfather. It requires sixteen men to ring it; but its peals rouse the Antwerpers only on great occasions, such as a visit of the king.
Dr. Winstock and Paul waited among the chimes till they had played the hourly tune, and then continued their progress to the heights above. The custodian of the steeple said there were six hundred and sixteen steps from the bottom to the top, and a person does not care to make the journey more than once in his lifetime. The winding stairs passed close to the Gothic openings of the tower, and they had an opportunity closely to observe the delicate workmanship of the structure, which Charles V. said should be kept in a glass case, and Napoleon compared to Mechlin lace.
At last, out of breath, they reached the highest point of the spire, and looked far down upon the lofty roof of the church. The buildings of the city looked like card houses, and a company of Belgian soldiers, marching in the streets, appeared like the pygmies who inhabited them. In the distance could be seen the towers of Ghent, Brussels, Mechlin, and Flushing, the wandering Scheldt, and the low country for a vast distance. The magnificent view, and the information it afforded, amply repaid them for the toil of ascending, and Paul made the Cathedral the subject of an entire letter to Miss Grace Arbuckle.