appeared to me in this way intelligible; for when the eagerlylonged-for Beautiful comes into our possession, it does not always make good in particulars what it promised in the whole; and thus is it plain that the same thing which excited our desire as a whole will sometimes not thoroughly satisfy us in particulars.

"These considerations were so much the more important as the Princess had observed her friend to long eagerly for works of art, but to grow cold and weary in their possession; a fact which he has himself expressed so charmingly and so cleverly in the above-mentioned little treatise. In such cases a person has really to consider the difference as to whether the subject is worthy of the enthusiasm felt for it; if it be, then must pleasure and admiration always grow upon it, and perpetually renew themselves; if it be not entirely so, then the thermometer sinks some degrees, and one gains in knowledge what one loses in prejudice. Hence is it certainly quite true that a person must buy works of art in order to understand them, so that the desire may be removed and the true value of the object established. Meanwhile, desire and its satisfaction must here also alternate with one another in a thrilling life; they must mutually attack and release each other, in order that the man once deceived may not cease to pursue.

'However, it was often extremely agreeable to our party to return again after these æsthetic disquisitions to the consideration of the gems, and we were in truth forced to regard this as a most singular incident that precisely the very flowers of Heathenism should thus be treasured up and so highly valued in a Christian family.' I lost no time in

The Princess is depicted by Goethe as the very pattern of the perfect Christian lady.

discovering the most charming subjects of the compositions which sprung to meet the eye from out of these precious miniature representations. Here also no one could deny that copies of great, important, antique works, for ever lost to us, have been preserved like jewels in these narrow limits. Hardly any branch of art wanted a representative among them; in scarcely any class of subjects was a deficiency to be observed. The vigorous, ivy-crowned Hercules could not belie his colossal origin; the stern Medusa's head, the Bacchus formerly preserved in the Medicean cabinet, the graceful sacrifices, the Bacchic festivals, and besides all these the most valuable portraits of known and unknown persons, all obtained our admiration during oft-repeated examinations.

"From out of such conversations, which, in spite of their height and depth, ran no danger of losing themselves in the abstruse, a point of connection appeared to manifest itself between art and religion, inasmuch as all veneration for a worthy object is always attended by a devotional feeling. No one however could conceal from himself that the purest Christian religion must ever find itself at variance with the true creative art, inasmuch as the former ever strives to extricate itself from the objects of sense, whilst the latter recognises the sensuous element as its proper sphere of action, and is obliged to abide within its limits.

"Notwithstanding this, the subject of engraved gems could always be introduced as an excellent intermediary whenever the conversation threatened to flag. I for my part could indeed only appreciate the poetical part of the engraving, the subject itself, the composition, the execution, and pass judgment upon and praise these points alone; my friends, on the other hand, were accustomed to bring forward quite different considerations upon the same topic. For, in fact, the amateur who, having procured such treasures, shall

desire to raise his acquisitions to the rank of a respectable cabinet, must for his own security in his enterprise, not remain satisfied with the mere ability to understand the spirit and the sense of these precious works of art, and to delight himself therewith, but he must also call external proofs to his assistance; a thing which must be excessively difficult for one who is not himself a practical artist in the same department. Hemsterhuis had corresponded for several years with his friend Natter on this point, letters about which of great value were still preserved. In these, the first thing that came under consideration was the species of gem on which the work was executed, inasmuch as some stones were employed only in ancient, others again only in modern times; thus, too, a superior degree of finish was above all things to be kept in view, as a reason whence one might refer the work to a good period of art; whilst, on the other hand, carelessness of execution being sometimes ascribed to the taste of the period, as arising partly from incapacity, partly from negligence, furnished the means of ascertaining the earlier or later date of the work. Especial stress was laid upon the polish of the sunken parts, and the connoisseurs believed that they saw in this an irrefragable proof of work of the best period. But as to whether an engraved gem was decidedly antique or not, on this point no one ventured to lay down any fixed rules of judgment; even our friend Hemsterhuis having only been able to satisfy himself on this particular difficulty by the decision of that unrivalled artist Natter.

"I could not conceal from myself that I was here entering upon quite a new field of observation, to which I felt myself very strongly attracted, and could but lament the shortness of the time of my stay, by which I saw myself cut off from the opportunity of directing my eyes as well as mind more

steadily upon the above-mentioned particulars. On one such occasion the Princess expressed herself with the utmost amiability and frankness, that she felt disposed to intrust me with the collection in order that I might study it at home in the company of my friends and of connoisseurs, and so be able to educate and ground myself in this important branch of art, by taking sulphur casts and glass pastes from the intagli."

This liberal offer Goethe at first declined, not wishing to take upon himself the responsibility of the charge in those times of trouble; however, at last the Princess obliges him to accept her proposal, and he carries the collection home with him to Weimar, where he re-arranges the gems in two cases in regular order, accompanied with casts taken from them to assist in their examination.

The following is the result of his long and careful study of this invaluable collection, which I give at length, without any fear of its being considered tedious, as it points out in a most clear and forcible manner the great artistic merit displayed in choice works of this description:

"We found ourselves justified on internal grounds of art in pronouncing, if not all, yet by far the largest number of these intagli, to be genuine antique monuments of art, and indeed several were found among them which might be reckoned in the number of the most distinguished works of this kind. Some were conspicuous from the circumstance of their being absolutely identical with older casts of celebrated gems. Several others we remarked whose design corresponded with that of other antique intagli, but which for this very reason might still be accounted genuine. In very extensive collections repetitions of the same subject often occur, and we should be very much mistaken in pronouncing one of them to be the original, the others but modern copies.

In such a case we ought always to keep in mind the noble artistic honesty of the ancients, which thought that it could never repeat too often the treatment of a subject once successfully carried out. The artists of those times considered themselves as original enough when they felt sufficient capability and dexterity to grasp an original thought, and to reproduce it again after their own fashion.

"Several of these gems presented themselves with the artist's name engraved upon them; a circumstance upon which great value has been set for many years past. Such an addition is in truth remarkable enough, nevertheless the inscription generally remains a subject of dispute, for it is very possible that the stone may be antique, and the name engraved in modern times, in order to add new value even to the perfect."

This collection was afterwards purchased by the King of Holland. Duke Ernst of Gotha had been strongly tempted to make the acquisition, but had been deterred by the following reasons, which are well worth transcribing, as vividly pointing out all the drawbacks to the pleasure of this pursuit.

Duke Ernst writes thus to Goethe: "Much as he desired the possession of the collection now before him, and well aware as he was of its great value, yet was he held back not so much by inward doubts as (and in a much greater degree) by an external circumstance. He had no pleasure in possessing anything for himself alone, but gladly shared the