By a circumstance not less strange than those already mentioned of these two men so totally different, the erection of a statue to each is now occupying the public mind. Unheard of efforts have been made to erect that of Voltaire--as Raymond Brucker says--by the hand of the executioner, for the meanest stratagems and the most trifling falsities have been resorted to; and by dint of puffing and scandal, our little Voltairians, whom Voltaire himself would disown, will perhaps attain their glorious end. {203} And without effort, without puffing, without scandal or imposture of any kind, by the simple emotion of love and of Christian veneration, to the saint of the nineteenth century is being erected a statue worthy of him. Before criticising this work, lately inaugurated at Ars with great solemnity, I will relate its history. It is sufficiently striking to merit being known, and places in bold relief one side of the person it is destined to represent. III. The Curé d'Ars obstinately refused to sit for his portrait. On this point he was more obdurate than a Mussulman, and never lent himself to any proposition or stratagem the end of which was to reproduce his person. Several artists, working openly, had been rejected; others, using hidden means, watching for the priest, and following him in the street or in church, had been warned to keep quiet. Under these circumstances, M. Emilien Cabuchet, the author of the statue of which we are going to speak, presented himself at Ars. He was furnished with a letter from the bishop, and numerous recommendations. He did not doubt his success, and accosted the curé, and spoke of his business with a deliberate air. "No, no, I do not wish it," said the curé; "neither for monseigneur, nor for you, my artist-friend! At least," added the priest, changing his mind, and taking up a favorite idea, "unless monseigneur will permit me to go away immediately, and weep over _my poor life!_" "But, Monsieur le Curé--" "It is useless." The discomfited artist ran to relate his adventure to the missionaries established near the curé. They gave him new courage. "Persevere!" said they to him. "You are not here to make your court to the Curé d'Ars, but to make his portrait. Go on, we will sustain you." Thus reassured, the artist risked everything, and commenced by following the curate to church. During the Mass he was behind the curate, at the sermon back of the good women, and at the catechism behind the children. Every one assisted him, and took part in the enterprise. The artist held the wax between his fingers, and modelled in the bottom of his hat--his eye now on the curé, now on his work. Sometimes, to mislead the priest, he pretended to pray with fervor, or to follow attentively the instruction. He thought he was very adroit. One day the curé bent toward him. "You are well aware, monsieur," said he in a gentle tone, "that you are causing distraction to every one--and to me also!"