Mr. Ruckstuhl’s best known works are: “Mercury Teasing the Eagle of Jupiter,” which is of bronze, nine feet high, which he made in Paris; a seven-foot statue of Solon, erected in the Congressional Library at Washington; busts of Franklin, Goethe and Macaulay, on the front of the same library; and the eleven-foot statue of bronze of “Victory,” for the Jamaica soldiers’ and sailors’ monument. In competition, he won the contract for an equestrian statue of General John F. Hartranft, ex-Governor of Pennsylvania, which he also made in Paris. It is considered the finest piece of work of its kind in America. Besides this labor, he has made a number of medallions and busts. “Art was in me as a child,” he said; “I was discouraged whenever it beckoned me, but finally it claimed me. I surrendered a good position to follow it, whether it led through a thorny road or not. A sculptor is an artist, a musician, a poet, a writer, a dramatist, to throw action, breath and life, music and a soul into his creation. I can pick up an instrument and learn it instantly; I can sing, and act, so I am in touch with the sympathies of the beings that I endeavor to create. You will find most sculptors and artists of my composite nature. “There,” said Mr. Ruckstuhl, and he stretched out his arm, with his palm downward, and moved it through the air, as he gazed into distance, “you strive to create the imagination of your mind, and it comes to you as if sent from another world. “You strive. That is the way to success.” XXXVI During Leisure Hours He “Found Himself” and Abandoned the Law for Art. THERE is a charming lesson in the way Henry Merwin Shrady, the sculptor, “found himself.” A few years ago, this talented artist, whose splendid buffalo and moose ornamented the entrance of the Pan-American Exposition at Buffalo, was employed as an assistant manager in the match business of his brother-in-law, Edwin Gould. It was by attempts at self-improvement through painting in oil, during leisure hours, that he discovered his capacity for art, and, finally, for sculpture of a high order of merit. “I always secretly wished,” he said modestly, “to become a great painter, and, with that in view, dabbled in oils from childhood. My family wished me to study medicine, but my nature revolted at the cutting of flesh; so, after a course at Columbia University, I studied law. An attack of typhoid fever, caught at a Yale-Harvard boat race, after my graduation, incapacitated me for work for a year. Then I went into the match business, instead of practicing law. “After business hours and on holidays, I taught myself painting. I have never taken a lesson in drawing, in painting, or in sculpture, in my life. I joined the Bronx Zoölogical Society, that I might the better study animals, and it was at these gardens that I made the sketches for my buffalo and moose.”