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404       LIVING AMERICAN ARTISTS.

son became a sculptor is what we have sat down to tell. It is a simple story, yet one full of interest and inspiration,- the history of him whose latest work- his statue of Shakespeare- is ranked amongst the first of modern works of art.

John Quincy Adams Ward was born in Urbana, Champaign County, Ohio, on the 29th day of June, 1830. His father, the inheritor of three hundred acres, and a man of culture, was thoroughly appreciative of the value of a good education, and did the best by his children that the place afforded. Quincy distinguished himself less in school than out of it, however. He had acquired a village reputation, the envy of his playmates, long before he awoke the jealousy of his classmates. For the potter's shop had been his favorite haunt, and here he had acquired a skill at modeling which astonished the older heads, and was a fruitful source of pleasure to the younger. The potter's work had a charm for him which even play had not. It was a rare delight to him to see the shapeless clay develop into graceful form in the workman's hands. He was in his glory when he was permitted to handle the plastic stuff and "make something." The clay bank- the store-house of the potter- was near the homestead, and here, during all the pleasant months, had Quincy a workshop of his own, of which he did not fail to profit. Some of his early efforts at creation were ambitious ones. Churches saw-mills, and whole villages of people fashioned he, to the wonder and delight of all the lazy rogues who came to watch him. It was here the potter first say Quincy's work. As a matter of course he became his friend and patron, and gave him the freedom of his workshop. Here in every leisure moment Quincy reveled among the clay, and learned to turn pots with skill, preferring the job immeasurably to the pursuit of vulgar fractions. Here he acquired his first knowledge of tools less primitive than his fingers, and, in early proof of his skill in using them, he ornamented some pots with bas-reliefs, which called general attention to his work, and gave him undisputed rank among his comrades ever after. a chef d'oeuvre at this time was his representation of a train of cars, than rather a novelty to the western villagers. Even the potter, who was something of a critic, could afford to admire this effort, and, as the height of his ambition for the young artist, suggested that he should be sent to Cincinnati to learn toy-making. "There is money in that business," quoth the potter.

But Cincinnati had no attractions for Quincy, nor had the money of that business. His father had no decided views as yet about the future of the boy, nor did his success in modeling suggest any. On the contrary, the family rather disliked Quincy's weakness for the clay. But there was time enough, he was but entering on his teens. And so Quincy continued to attend his school, and to potter away his leisure hours, making clay figures of men on horseback, cattle, and whole theaters occasionally, which he traded off among the village boys for toys of their making or their purchase.

Like all imaginative children, our young artist was passionately fond of reading; but, luckily for him, he had not the privilege of too many books. He had, however, a library in a single work- his father's Cyclopedia Britannica. In this he read of drawing, modeling, and of Michael Angelo Buonarotti. Here he had his first revelation of the possibilities of Art, and henceforward his thoughts began to shape into more definite purpose, and his desire to grow stronger that one day he too might become a sculptor.

Quincy was not the only member of his family with artistic tastes; hence he had sympathy and encouragement at home. His sister had learned to make wax-flowers, as was the fashion with young ladies more then than now,- and hereby hangs a tale. For upon this wax-flower making the young modeler had often cast a hungry eye. He had longed to attempt a statuette in wax, and here was the material for his purpose. Wax could be had for flowers; but in the quantity and quality for figure-making, that was another affair and not to be spoken of. It might be thought about, however, and brooding thereupon begot the ways and means. Somehow the wax disappeared mysteriously from the sister's box, and found its way into Quincy's hands.