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LIVING AMERICAN ARTISTS. 405 Having no vulgar prejudice against color, and being economical of scraps, in a few months he found himself in possession of enough material for his figure. But he had no model. To steal that by piecemeal was impossible; so he had to content himself with reference to engravings and occasional consultation of his own proportions, which we may presume were delicate enough at fifteen to suggest, in some degree, the fairer ones of the Venus non-comeatable [[non-compatible]]. This work, as you may presume, had to be done in secret; hence it was the labor of many months. A shady spot in a distant field was the artist's workshop, where, day after day, he labored to give form to his ideal of female beauty, hiding his statuette in the grass, when too late to work longer at it, to return to it again upon the morrow. It disappeared one day. The artist was in despair, and it is presumed gave some hint of the nature of his loss at home; for although he found the figure some days afterwards in the long grass,- where he himself had placed it, doubtless,- it soon after disappeared, this time to return no more. This was his last great effort at Urbana. Quincy was sixteen years old when he was taken from school that he might help upon the farm. He tried hard, he says, to content himself with the dull routine of farm life; but, as a farmer, gave promise only of ignominious failure. His heart was not in the work, and the struggle of duty with inclination was most painful. He did his best, however, for three years, but grew more and more discontented daily. His unspoken wish was still to be a sculptor, but there seemed no outlet now from his farmer's life. A change came at last. Seeing how unhappy he was in his effort to reconcile himself to his work at home, it was proposed by the family that he should study medicine; and for a brief time he gave himself to this, thereby educating himself unconsciously for his future work, by becoming familiar with the anatomy of the human form. Whilst thus engaged his health gave way, and during his illness his sister, who lived in Brooklyn, visited her father's home. She expressed her anxiety about Quincy's future, and asked him to tell her of his troubles. He was too timid and too hopeless then to suggest his wishes, but the kind woman got to the bottom of his heart before she left, and promised him her help. She would call on H. K. Brown, whose studio was in Brooklyn, and whom she knew well. Faithful to her promise, and accompanied by her husband, Mrs. Thomas waited upon the sculptor Brown, then rising into fame. He gave her but cold encouragement for Quincy; told her that the artist had a hard road to travel, and that success was not always at the end of it. So she wrote to her brother: "If you think you have genius of the highest order, then you may come on and study." He didn't think he had, poor fellow, so buried his hopes once more, and tried to work on manfully in the rough harness of his country life. But the effort cost him dearly. He fell ill again; and at the fall of the year most gladly accepted his sister's invitation to visit her home in Brooklyn. This was in 1849. Soon after his arrival his sister asked him to call at Brown's studio with her; but at first he refused to go,- his ambition had all but left him. Ultimately, however, he was prevailed upon to pay the visit, and was duly introduced to Mr. Brown, by whom he was received in the kindliest way. Here was the first time he say the "properties" of a sculptor's studio- the blocks of marble and heaps of clay, the modeling tools and other necessities of the art. One young man was cutting at a block of stone; another fashioning clay into some desired shape. Ward thought he could do this or that, even as he saw it done, and his courage grew. It was a revelation of the processes of artistic labor, which inspired confidence and awoke ambition once again! Before leaving Brown told him to get something and copy it. He might tell him then whether or not he had sufficient talent for a sculptor in him. With this advice, and with kind, encouraging words from the sculptor, all of which Quincy as tenderly stored away, our young aspirant left the studio of the master. It was not long, you may be assured, until something was found to copy-a cast of the Venus de Medici, such as was readily obtainable,