the word,
is the direct creation of Academic Schools.

Every country now has its own models, except America. In New York, and
even in Boston, a good model is so great a rarity that most of the
artists are reduced to painting Niagara and millionaires. In Europe,
however, it is different. Here we have plenty of models, and of every
nationality. The Italian models are the best. The natural grace of
their attitudes, as well as the wonderful picturesqueness of their
colouring, makes them facile--often too facile--subjects for the
painter's brush. The French models, though not so beautiful as the
Italian, possess a quickness of intellectual sympathy, a capacity, in
fact, of understanding the artist, which is quite remarkable. They have
also a great command over the varieties of facial expression, are
peculiarly dramatic, and can chatter the argot of the atelier as cleverly
as the critic of the Gil Bias. The English models form a class entirely
by themselves. They are not so picturesque as the Italian, nor so clever
as the French, and they have absolutely no tradition, so to speak, of
their order. Now and then some old veteran knocks at a studio door, and
proposes to sit as Ajax defying the lightning, or as King Lear upon the
blasted heath. One of them some time ago called on a popular painter
who, happening at the moment to require his services, engaged him, and
told him to begin by kneeling down in the attitude of prayer. 'Shall I
be Biblical or Shakespearean, sir?' asked the veteran.
'Well--Shakespearean,' answered the artist, wondering by what subtle
nuance of expression the model would convey the difference. 'All right,
sir,' said the professor of posing, and he solemnly knelt down and began
to wink with his left eye! This class, however, is dying out. As a rule
the model, nowadays, is a pretty girl, from about twelve to twenty-five
years of age, who knows nothing about art, cares less, and is merely
anxious to earn seven or eight shillings a day without much trouble.
English models rarely look at a picture, and never venture on any
aesthetic theories. In fact, they realise very completely Mr. Whistler's
idea of the function of an art critic, for they pass no criticisms at
all. They accept all schools of art with the grand catholicity of the
auctioneer, and sit to a fantastic young impressionist as readily as to a
learned and laborious academician. They are neither for the Whistlerites
nor against them;