s own salvation as best he
could.

His first important commission came to him at the age of
twenty-three--the figure of the "Minute Man" for the battle monument at
Concord, Massachusetts. It was unveiled on April 19, 1875, and
attracted wide attention. For here was a work of strength and
originality produced by a young man without schooling or
experience--produced, too, without a model, or, at least, from nothing
but a large cast of the "Apollo Belvidere," which was the only model the
sculptor had. But there was no hint of that famous figure under the
clothes of the "Minute Man." It had been entirely concealed by the
personality and vigor he had impressed upon his work.

After that Mr. French spent a year in Florence, but he returned to
America at the end of that period to remain. He has grown steadily in
power and certainty of touch, rising perhaps to his greatest height in
his famous group, "The Angel of Death and the Young Sculptor," intended
as a memorial to Martin Milmore, but touching the universal heart by its
deep appeal, conveyed with a sure and admirable artistry. Mr. French's
great distinction is to have created good sculpture which has touched
the public heart, and to have done this with no concession to public
taste.

Another sculptor who has gained a wide appreciation is Frederick
MacMonnies, who for sheer audacity and dexterity of manipulation is
almost without a rival. He was born in Brooklyn in 1863, his father a
Scotchman who had come to New York at the age of eighteen, and his
mother a niece of Benjamin West. The boy's talent revealed itself early,
and was developed in the face of many difficulties. Obliged to leave
school while still a child and to earn his living as a clerk in a
jewelry store, he still found time to study drawing, and at the age of
sixteen had the good fortune to attract the attention of Saint Gaudens,
who received him as an apprentice in his studio.

No better fate could have befallen the lad, and the five years spent
with Saint Gaudens gave him the best of all training in the fundamentals
of his art. Some years in Paris followed, where he replenished his
slender purse with such work as he could find to do, until, in 1889, his
"Diana" emerged from his studio, radiant and superb. A year later came
his statue of "Nathan Hale," and there was never any lack of commissions
after that. "Nathan Hale" stands in City Hall Park, New York City, the
very embodiment of that devoted young p