seeing it over and over
again."

"Undoubtedly," said Erich, "Paul Veronese, and several other Italians,
have done many capital things in this department also."

"What say you to a marriage of Cana in this manner?" asked Edward.

"All eating," replied the old man, "grows tiresome in pictures, because
it never stirs from its place; and the roast peacocks and high-built
pasties, as well as the cup-bearers half bent double, are in all such
representations annoying things. But it is a different case, when they
are drawing a little Moses out of the water, and the king's daughter is
standing by, in her most costly attire, surrounded by richly dressed
ladies, who might themselves pass for princesses, men with halberds and
armour, and even dwarfs and dogs: I cannot express how delighted I am,
when I meet with one of these stories, which in my youth I was forced
to read in the uneasy confinement of a gloomy schoolroom, so gloriously
dressed up. But you, my dear Mr. Walther, have too few things of this
sort. Most of your pictures are for the feelings, and I never wish to
be affected, and least of all by works of art. Nor indeed am I ever so,
but only provoked."

"Still worse," began young Eisenschlicht, "is the case with our
comedies. When we leave an agreeable company, and, after a brilliant
entertainment, step into the lighted theatre, how can it be expected
that we should interest ourselves in the variety of wretchedness and
pitiful distress that is here served up for our amusement? Would it not
be possible to adopt the same laudable regulation which is established
by the police in most cities, to let me subscribe once for all for the
relief of poverty, and then not be incommoded any farther by the
tattered and hungry individuals?"

"It would be convenient, undoubtedly," said Edward; "but whether
absolutely laudable, either as a regulation of police, or a maxim of
art, I am not prepared to say. For my own part, I cannot resist a
feeling of pity towards the individual unfortunates, and would not wish
to do so, though to be sure one is often unseasonably disturbed,
impudently importuned, and sometimes even grossly imposed upon."

"I am of your opinion," cried Sophia: "I cannot endure those dumb blind
books, in which one is to write one's name, in order placidly to rely
upon an invisible board of management, which is to relieve the distress
as far as possible. In many places even it is desired that the
charitable should en