"Is it ennui that drives you away from us? Is it because we have few ideas and little skill in expressing them? But perhaps we have something else which would interest you if you understood it. The simplicity which characterizes us has its noble side, which should arouse respect and emotion in those who have lost it. Is it the faults or the vices that are found among us that make you sick at heart? But are the upper classes exempt from these same vices, which it pains me to see, and which I am constantly on my guard against? Because they conceal them better, or because in them debauchery of the mind colors and quickens that of the body, does it follow that their vices are more estimable? In vain do they, the fortunate ones of the age, cover their tracks; their sins, their crimes become known to us, and often, almost always in fact, they seek their confederates or their victims among us. "Go on, Michel, work, hope, rise, but let it not be at the expense of the spirit of justice and kindness; for in that case, although you might grow in the opinion of some, you would descend proportionately in the esteem of the majority." "All that you say is true and wise," Michel replied, "but is the conclusion well drawn? Ought I to pursue the career of art, and at the same time associate exclusively, or at least by preference, with these mechanics among whom fate willed that I should be born? If you reflect, you will see that that is inconsistent, that the great works of art are in the hands of the rich, that they alone own, purchase, and order pictures, statues, urns, carvings, and engravings. To be employed by them, one must needs live with them and as they live; otherwise oblivion, obscurity and poverty are the lot of genius. Our ancestors, the noble artists of the Renaissance and the Middle Ages, were artists and artisans at once. Their position was well-defined, and was more or less brilliant according to their talent. To-day all is changed. Artists are more numerous and the rich are less powerful and magnificent. Taste has become corrupted, the Mæcenases are no longer connoisseurs. Fewer palaces are built; for one great collection that is formed, thirty are sold piecemeal to pay debts, or because the heirs of the great families prefer cash to monuments of genius. It is no longer enough, therefore, to be a man of superior talent in order to find employment and honor in one's profession. Chance, and, even more frequently, intrigue, cause some to float, while others, who it may be are of far greater worth, are submerged.