“I do not think,” he said, “that the previous training of a student
who begins studying illustrating has much to do with his career. It
seems to me that his actual previous education matters very little. If
he wants to learn, he will learn. If he does not, he will not. If he
does not want to learn, his attempt at an education will profit him
very little. His gift for illustrating, if he has it, is a thing not
more dependent upon his education than upon his surroundings. While
there are instances in which an education forced upon a pupil has been
acknowledged by him afterward to mean much to him, there are also cases
in all arts of which we say that contact with the schoolmen would not
have been an advantage.”
Mr. Gibson said this quite tranquilly, as if it were not an idea at
odds with all other accepted statements that the thorough education of
an artist is the best foundation for anything he may undertake.
“That leaves a good deal of work for the pupil’s master,” I suggested.
“Master!” exclaimed Mr. Gibson, with almost a frown; “what is a
master? Have we any masters now? It seems to me that the word has
lost its old meaning, and that there is no longer such a thing as a
‘master.’ Suppose we say ‘teacher’ instead! And then let me add this: I
do not believe the teacher matters in the least.”
“Don’t you think,” I demanded, “that a pupil would make better progress
with you for a teacher than he would with somebody whose work had no
value?”