Emulation is a noble and just passion, full of appreciation.
But how is the artist to protect himself against the corruption of the age which besets him on all sides?
A brave man hazards life, but not his conscience.
O who knows what slumbers in the background of the times?
Not without a shudder may the human hand reach into the mysterious urn of destiny.
There are evil spirits who suddenly fix their abode in man's unguarded breast, causing us to commit devilish deeds, and then, hurrying back to their native hell, leave behind the stings of remorse in the poisoned bosom.