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600 LIVING AMERICAN ARTISTS. conversation with them, and carefully noted at the time. The occasional reflections upon the characters of the men and of their work which have appeared in the sketches already written, or which will appear in those to come, may or may not be of value in the future. They have but this to recommend them: they are those of one to whom his labor is one of love, who has no purpose to serve other than to find a vehicle for his thought on a subject, which he has much at heart. If, however, this occasional comment should help the reader of to-day, interested in artist life, to a better knowledge of it, and tend to quicken his sympathies for those who devote themselves to it, thinking less of self than of their art, it will have accomplished much; and this is the writer's immediate aim. We have been compelled to this explanation by a glance at the voluminous notes before us, taken during several conversations with him whose life we are about to sketch-a life embracing half a century of thought and work. William Page was born on the 23rd of January, 1811, in Albany, State of New York. His father was Levi Page, of Coventry, Connecticut; his mother was a native of Massachusetts, and a widow with a family when Levi married her. When William was about nine years old the elder Page moved to New York City, and it was about this time that the future artist began to give evidence of the bent of his tastes. This he did in making drawings of familiar objects in and about his home, and by frequently essaying bolder flights in attempts at portraiture. One of his efforts, at this time, was a portrait of his mother, which went up in the smoke of burning home soon after he had finished it. At school he made an early reputation among his fellows as a draughtsman, topping the pinnacle of popularity when he was but eleven years old, by obtaining a prize of one dollar for a drawing of the head of Louis XVIII., which his teacher exhibited for him at the exposition of the American Institute. For such encouragement as he received at home Page is indebted mainly to his mother (God bless the mothers!), and to his half-brother, Dr. Dunnel. The mother was a woman of refined tastes, fond of art, and appreciative of the early efforts of her son. She herself was quite skillful in wax-flower making, the popular accomplishment of her day. To her was left in great measure to decide as to the future of her youngest boy, for Page the elder was absorbed at all times in cares of business, or by some invention craving for delivery. It was thus when one day Mr. Frederick De Peyster called at the school where young Page was, to obtain a boy for his law-office. The teacher recommended Page and spoke of his talent for drawing. Mr. De Peyster was Secretary of the Academy of Design at this time, and , as might be expected, was not a little influenced by this recommendation. He offered the situation to Mrs. Page for her boy, and she accepted it. William remained here for two years, until his health broke down, and further confinement at the desk endangered his life. During these two years he had managed to continue his art study-had drawn a good deal, and ready many works on art and biographies of great painters. Neither did he lack encouragement from his employer; on the contrary, received much. Colonel Trumbull was shown his drawings during this time, but offered no encouragement. The Colonel was never lavish in this direction. After leaving the lawyer's office, and on being permitted to have his will at home with brush and canvas for a while, the young artist's health recovered. But he was now seventeen years old, and must take to a profession of some sort; so his half-brother and good friend, Dr. Dunnel, took him to the studio of one Herring, a portrait-painter of those days, where it was agreed that he should receive instruction in lieu of such help as he might give his master. This help, it appears, was, before long, worth some fifty dollars weekly to Herring, who "did" portraits by wholesale, and thus found young Page to be a valuable assistant. This was one of the happiest periods of hit fitful life, Page says, for it was the first wherein all his time was given to work congenial to him; his heart was full of hope, his future had no clouds that were yet visible. During his stay with Herring, which lasted about a year, it was the young artist's habit to rise at six A.M., and when the light permitted, to work two hours before going to his master's studio. In this way he made a large drawing of Germanicus, which was pronounced a great effort by his immediate friends, who advised him to let Colonel Trumbull see what he could do now. The Colonel, be it remembered, was the oracle on art matters in those days. He saw it and approved. Nay, more; he condescended to say that "he generally discouraged
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