ne rolled inside, the floor
settled so ominously that it was hastily withdrawn.

It does not seem to have occurred to anyone that the floor might be
braced; instead, the pedestal was set up outside, facing the building,
and the statue hoisted into place. It speedily became the butt of public
ridicule. Once the fashion started, no one looked at it without a smile.

Greenough was in despair. "Had I been ordered to make a statue for any
square or similar situation at the metropolis," he wrote, still in his
inflated style, "I should have represented Washington on horseback and
in his actual dress. I would have made my subject purely a historical
one. I have treated my subject poetically, and confess I would feel pain
in seeing it placed in direct flagrant contrast with every-day life."

But that is exactly how it was placed, and it is the incongruity of this
contrast which strikes the beholder and blinds him to the merits of the
work. For Greenough has represented Washington seated in a massive
armchair, naked except for a drapery over the legs and right shoulder,
one hand pointing dramatically at the heavens, the other extended
holding a reversed sword. It shows sincerity and faithful work, and had
it been placed within the rotunda, would no doubt have been impressive
and majestic. Where it stands, it is a hopeless anachronism.

This was the first colossal marble carved by an American. Fronting it on
one of the buttresses of the main entrance of the Capitol, is the
second, also by Greenough. It is a group called "The Rescue," and shows
a pioneer saving his wife and child from being tomahawked by an Indian,
while his dog watches the struggle with a strange apathy--almost with a
smile. Like most of his other work, it is stilted and unconvincing; but
let us remember that Greenough was the pathfinder, the trail-blazer, and
as such to be honored and admired.

Greenough's fame, such as it was, was soon to be eclipsed by that of a
man born in the same year, but later in development because he had a
harder road to travel. Hiram Powers was born into a large and
poverty-stricken family. While he was still a boy, his father removed
from the sterile hills of Vermont to the almost frontier town of
Cincinnati, Ohio. He seems to have had little schooling, but was put to
work as soon as he was old enough to contribute something toward the
family exchequer. He did all sorts of odd jobs, and soon developed an
unusual talent, that of mod