Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter; . e Angelus wasjust ringing, and he found himself at the door of the little church ofEculleville. He went in; at the altar an old man was praying. Hewaited, and when the old priest rose, he struck him gently on theshoulder, and said: Frangois. It was the Abbe Jean Lebrisseux,his first teacher. * Ah, is it you, dear child, Httle Francois ? and they embraced,weeping. * And the Bible, Fran9ois, have you forgotten it ? and thePsalms, do you ever read them ? * They are my breviary, said Millet. I get from them allthat I do. These are rare words to hear now
Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter; . e Angelus wasjust ringing, and he found himself at the door of the little church ofEculleville. He went in; at the altar an old man was praying. Hewaited, and when the old priest rose, he struck him gently on theshoulder, and said: Frangois. It was the Abbe Jean Lebrisseux,his first teacher. * Ah, is it you, dear child, Httle Francois ? and they embraced,weeping. * And the Bible, Fran9ois, have you forgotten it ? and thePsalms, do you ever read them ? * They are my breviary, said Millet. I get from them allthat I do. These are rare words to hear nowadays, but you will be used to love Virgil. I love him still. It is well. I am content. Where I sowed, good grain hasgrown, and you will reap the harvest, my son. At night-fall they separated. Millet started again for Paris,where new work and new disappointments awaited him, but his stayat Gruchy was profitable to his future. He never exhausted thestock of characteristic subjects which he brought back with him. His ,j\ju,k. The Reaper. PEASANT AND PAINTER. 111 name began to grow. The new rustic art of Millet had made theyoung men think; at once literal and imaginative, it roused in someminds a whole world of political and social problems. Some calledhim the brother of Pierre Dupont, the singer of peasants, and theeloquent ally of Lachambeaudie, the novelist of the sorrows of thepeople. * The Sower cursed the rich, they said, because he flunghis grain with anger toward the sky. Every one talked of the artistswork, and tried to make it a weapon. But Millet did not considerhimself so important or so revolutionary. No subversive ideatroubled his brain. Socialistic doctrines he would not listen to; thelittle that came to his ears, he said, was not clear. He often said:*^ My programme is work. Thou shalt gain thy bread in the sweatof thy brow was written centuries ago. Immutable destiny, whichnone may change ! What^ eyery^one ought to do js to find progressin^hisjM
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