--_Blanche Roosevelt_

[Illustration: GUSTAVE DORE]


It was at the Cafe de l'Horloge in Paris. Mr. Whistler sat leaning on his
cane, looking off into space, dreamily and wearily.

He roused enough to answer the question: "Dore--Gustave Dore--an artist?
Why, the name sounds familiar! Oh, yes, an illustrator. Ah, now I
understand; but there is a difference between an artist and an
illustrator, you know, my boy. Dore--yes, I knew him--he had bats in his
belfry!"

And Mr. Whistler dismissed the subject by calling for a match, and then
smoked his cigarette in grim silence, blowing the smoke through his nose.

Not liking a man, it is easy to shelve him with a joke, or to waive his
work with a shrug and toss of the head, but not always will the ghost
down at our bidding.

In the realm of art nothing is more strange than this: genius does not
recognize genius. Still, the word is much abused, and the man who is a
genius to some is never so to others. In defining a genius it is easiest
to work by the rule of elimination and show what he is not.

For instance, neither Reynolds, Landseer nor Meissonier was a genius.
These men were strong, sane, well poised--filled with energy and life.
They were receptive and quick to grasp a suggestion or hint that could be