CHAPTER VII
THE WORKMAN AND HIS WORK
MR. GIBSON was characteristically American in his habits of work and in his love of it. He wrought with a zeal and a passion which are characteristic of the race from which he came. And the early, abrupt, and untimely close of his brilliant career must be charged almost wholly to this fiery passion for work, this ardor in doing.
One comes upon traces of this characteristic very early in his career. His own letters as well as the letters of his friends written in his youth show that, very soon after leaving “The Gunnery” at any rate, he acquired the habit of continuous application, and became an expert at it. No sooner had he made up his mind what he would do in life, than he began to do it with all his might. He felt the pressure of need, and responded to it promptly and vigorously. He lost no time, he spared no pains to train himself for his career. He realized his lack of education in art, and that he had to furnish out of himself both discipline and knowledge. There was in his mind evidently but one way to supply the defects of technical education, which to so many would have seemed insuperable obstacles. He could overcome everything by work. He knew how to “toil terribly.” He spared no time, no trial, no tasking of himself. After he had done a good day’s work in the things he was under contract to do for his employers, he would turn to work again for himself and upon schemes of his own, and would spend hours more in the most absorbing labor. If any student of his work should wonder how his swift success was won, and how he so soon made good his defects of education and training, they may find their answer in that one word—work. It was his talisman. That he had gifts, power, genius, he believed most implicitly. It was that which gave him courage; but he knew, too, that genius without work is an engine without steam. A letter which he wrote to his mother during the progress of his first drawing for the “Aldine,” of the Inness landscape is his own confession of excessive industry, and gives a glimpse at the same time of the fiery zeal and undoubting courage which possessed him.
“I had intended writing to you during the early part of the week, as I had a message to send you; but I have been so excessively busy that I could find no moment of time.... I have worked very hard during the past few weeks, not only during the day, but in the evenings also, yea, even until the morning on several occasions. The object of my labors you of course understand is the Inness picture. Well, it is finished and has been universally admired. I have drawn nearly the whole of it in the night-time here at home, as my days have been occupied by O. J. & Co.’s work. I have (with reason) been very anxious over this ‘Aldine’ picture of mine. Everybody has told me that I was too headstrong to attempt such a large drawing for my first start in landscape, and no one imagined that I would succeed. Roberts told me that he knew I would not succeed and that I ought to have commenced on something smaller at first. Others have said: ‘It’s a pretty big start to commence with a full page in the finest American illustrated journal.’ But I have commenced and my drawing has been admired, accepted and paid for by Mr. Sutton, and is to appear in the ‘Aldine’ in the course of a few months. I am going to study very hard on landscape henceforth, as I feel convinced of success.... I have received congratulations on all sides, for it is not a small thing to get a drawing accepted in the ‘Aldine.’ I, of course, am very much encouraged and am determined that my next drawing shall be an improvement on my last.”
While he was writing those lines his mother was writing to him, in warning and caution against his undue application:
“I hope your picture will be done before long, so that you will not have to work at night. Depend upon it you will lose strength and eyesight by unwise application. I am uneasy to find that you are trying your strength to its utmost limit. Do be advised.”
Receiving the news of his success with his work, she sends him her congratulations, and renews her motherly—and timely—cautions. It is all very interesting reading in the light of what followed; for it is to be remembered that all these letters were written in 1872, when Gibson was but twenty-two,—a mere stripling just entering the lists!
Sandy Hook, Tuesday Eve., March 12/72.
“My Dear Willie:
“Excuse this peculiar note-paper! Henry has gone out to spend the evening, and I cannot find the family supply without more hunting round than is worth while for mere appearance’s sake. I was surprised and delighted at the good news in your welcome letter this noon! Certainly it was a great deal more than I expected, and I think your success, in such an ambitious effort, the first time, and with the ‘Aldine,’ is truly wonderful. I can only account for it by the explanation, that your talent in art is an intuition, a gift, by which you are, and will be, enabled to surpass those who would seem to be more likely to succeed than you, on account of greater practice and education in that particular. But even if this is the case, that would not be enough of itself, and you add to it an industry, a perseverance, and a courage which put you straight through. I cannot see why, if your health and strength are spared, yours should not yet become a prominent name among American artists. If you study, work, and continue to add to your knowledge and skill, you will, by and by, begin to compose, and once well started in that line, your future is made, and your best ambition satisfied. I congratulate you most sincerely and lovingly, and thank God that he has endowed you with a rare and blessed gift. Now, don’t keep on working at night. You must see that it is very unwise, and that for the future you should not allow yourself to be tempted into it.”