At another time, referring contemptuously to the calm ocean under a vacant sky, he said: “I take no interest in that.” There came, however, one morning while I was at Prout’s Neck a misty and threatening sky. Grey clouds bewitching in their silvery tones went hurrying across the troubled sea. By noon it was blowing a gale and the waves were lashing the coast, sending spray high into the air. Once and again great clouds of mist drove across the deserted rocks, and the music of old ocean rose to an ominous and resounding tone. Presently Homer hurried into my room, clad from head to foot in rubber, and carrying in his arms a storm coat and a pair of sailor’s boots. “Come,” he said, “quickly! It is perfectly grand.” For an hour we clambered over rocks, holding fast to the wiry shrubs which grew from every crevice, while the spray dashed far overhead. This placid, reserved, self-contained little man was in a fever of excitement, and his delight in the beautiful and almost overpowering expression of the ocean as it foamed and rioted was inspiring. To him this was the supreme expression of beauty and power. The moment he had patiently waited for had come. Homer’s love for and appreciation of those rugged, elemental qualities in nature resulted in the production of forceful works of great beauty. In the selection of subjects he expressed his individual taste. [SN: _Henry W. Ranger_] I recall an opinion expressed by the late Henry W. Ranger to the effect that Tolstoi’s definition of art had never been excelled. He referred to Tolstoi’s definition of art as the power to pass on a sensation. Ranger maintained the opinion that art is the expression of the individual’s feeling, that the artist uses the facts of nature to express his own sensation and that no great landscape was ever painted directly from nature. “The technical difficulties,” he said, “and the rapidly changing effects made it hard to paint out of doors. He could do better by depending upon his memory.” It was his opinion that the deeper qualities were secured in the studio; that nature only furnishes the hooks upon which the painter hangs his work; that he in reality expresses his own feeling, the poetry or sentiment which is in himself. Ranger here describes a vague or not clearly defined quality which is referred to as personal temperament. His opinion is in direct contradiction to the almost universal testimony of painters and sculptors, and Ranger himself in his practice failed to maintain it. Although he did not complete his works in the presence of nature, he made many sketches from nature and copied his larger canvases from these.