Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter; . ortunatetimes, I find them always containing a dignified, calm statement of hissufferings. He hides nothing, complains of nothing, merely tells thebald fact, which is thus still the more touching. All these cruel con-fidences end with these words : * Try, my dear Sensier, to coin somemoney with my pictures; sell them at any price, but send me onehundred francs, fifty, or even thirty, for the time approaches. * * *Then I trotted all over Paris, offering dealers and amateurs thepaintings of my friend. Some grinned, or sent me off as a madman ;others,
Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter; . ortunatetimes, I find them always containing a dignified, calm statement of hissufferings. He hides nothing, complains of nothing, merely tells thebald fact, which is thus still the more touching. All these cruel con-fidences end with these words : * Try, my dear Sensier, to coin somemoney with my pictures; sell them at any price, but send me onehundred francs, fifty, or even thirty, for the time approaches. * * *Then I trotted all over Paris, offering dealers and amateurs thepaintings of my friend. Some grinned, or sent me off as a madman ;others, more rarely, bought, but at laughable prices. I went tomy comrades. I told them they could buy with confidence, andthat I would take the picture back if, later, they came to the con-clusion that they had made a bad bargain. In this way I made somesales, and, after a month or two, back would come the painting, with * [Among the other American artists who knew Millet at Barbizon were Wyatt Eaton,Edward Wheelwright, and Will H. Low.—Trans. ]. The New-born. PEASANT AND JAINTER. I05 the words, * Decidedly, I dont care for this artist; I Hke anythingelse better—a new embarrassment for me. I honored my promises,but only by superhuman efforts, loans, combinations. Thus Iacquired many pictures of Millet in spite of myself, as it were, andby the mere force of circumstances. Later, some of these stubbornamateurs came to me for the same pictures, but I refused, saying:** It is too late; your pictures are in my harem, and I will just let yousee them, like Candaules and Gyges. But the mold is not to Millet; he will serve you. That was a time of trials,struggles, and humiliating, picturesque inventions to get us out ofdifficulties. I see it all through a mist, which changes sometimesinto splendid rainbows, for I was as convinced as of a mathematicalfact that Millet was a great painter. I do not speak of the man. I was attached to Millet as toan elder brother, who revealed to me
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1881
