The classification of the prize-ring into feather-, light-, middle-, and heavy-weights makes its appearance in art; genius, like jockeys, must weigh-in and-out. By rights, therefore, Paganini should have played the bass-viol and Napoleon should have been a drummer-boy. The painter must measure his canvas by his belt, and bant the masterpiece into shape. The gymnasium is the true school of art, and the dumb-bell is mightier than the brush. “For if Whistler had been six inches taller and his bulk proportionally increased, ... instead of having painted a dozen portraits,--every one, even the ‘Mother’ and ‘Miss Alexander,’ which I personally take to be the two best, a little febrile in its extreme beauty, whilst some, masterpieces though they be, are clearly touched with weakness and marked with hysteria,--Mr. Whistler would have painted a hundred portraits as strong, as vigorous, as decisive, and as easily accomplished as any by Velasquez or Hals.” This is the sort of comment that follows but never precedes acquaintance. After knowing a painter, it is easy to discover all his physical characteristics and idiosyncrasies in his work,--so easy, in fact, that many critics prefer to pass on books, plays, and pictures on their merits without knowing anything about the authors, the actors, or painters; for in the end a work must stand or fall by itself. From an examination of the “Hermes,” can this critic give us the stature of Praxiteles? From the “Nike” in the Louvre can he describe the unknown master? What does the “Sistine Madonna” tell him of the weight of Raphael, or the “Lesson in Anatomy” of the “bulk” of Rembrandt? * * * * * A man’s physical condition may be--frequently is--reflected in his work. If he is an invalid, what he does is apt to show it,--though Herbert Spencer is a case to the contrary; but his physique is another matter. Genius is not a matter of inches. The weight of the brain is not controlled by the size of the body; still more independent is the organization and development of the brain. If a man have strength and health--and these the critic concedes to Whistler--his work may be the work of a giant. One of the greatest and strongest of Germany’s living artists is almost a dwarf; the most virile painter in America to-day is short and slight. * * * * *