Of late Whistler had but little cause to complain of lack of appreciation on this side,--for, while an art so subtle as his is bound to be more or less misunderstood, critics, amateurs, and a goodly portion of the public have for a long time acknowledged his greatness as an etcher, a lithographer, and a painter. In fact, for at least ten years past his works have been gradually coming to this country--where they belong. England and Scotland have been searched for prints and paintings until the great collections--much greater than the public know--of his works are here. Some day the American people will be made more fully acquainted with the beautiful things he has done, many of which have never been seen save by a few intimate friends. The struggle for recognition was long and bitter,--so long and so bitter that it developed in him the habits of controversy and whimsical irritability by which he was for a generation more widely known than through his art. * * * * * When it was once reported that he was going to America, he said, “It has been suggested many times; but, you see, I find art so absolutely irritating to the people that, really, I hesitate before exasperating another nation.” To another who asked him when he was coming, he answered, with emphasis, “When the duty on art is removed.” The duty on art was a source of constant irritation to Whistler,--for, while the works of American artists residing abroad are admitted free, the artist is compelled to make oaths, invoices, and take out consular certificates, and pay the consular fees in line with the shipper of olive oil and cheese. There was even a time, under the present law, when the works of American painters were not admitted free. The law reads, the works of American artists “residing _temporarily_ abroad” shall be admitted free, etc. Some department at Washington made an off-hand ruling that if an American artist had resided more than five years abroad his works would be subject to duty as those of a foreigner, thereby expatriating with a stroke of the pen four-fifths of the Americans who are working like dogs--but as artists--to make the world beautiful. To Whistler, Sargent, and the many prosperous ones the ruling did not greatly matter, but to the younger men who could not earn money enough to get home it did matter, and for a time it looked as if American art in Europe would be obliterated,--for American art in Europe depends for its support and aggressiveness on the American artists over there. Drive these men home, or expatriate them, so as to compel them to cast their lots with France, or England, or Italy, and what would become of those American sections in foreign exhibitions which for at least a dozen years past have commanded the serious consideration of all thoughtful observers as containing elements of strength, sobriety, and promise found nowhere else in the entire world of art?