Meissonier, his life and his art . proud of his muscles, and notill-pleased when the denizens of the Rue des Lombards admired hisprowess in lifting a cask of some six hundred pounds in weight. Hewas arming for the struggle he felt to be inevitable, inuring himself tothe hardships he foresaw. He began by taking to drawing again inthe evening, in secret. Then he made up his mind to show asmuch determination in clineino- to his vocation as his father in theattempt to oppose it. Give me three hundred francs, he said tothe elder Meissonier, and you shall hear nothing of me till I have 12 MEISSONIER
Meissonier, his life and his art . proud of his muscles, and notill-pleased when the denizens of the Rue des Lombards admired hisprowess in lifting a cask of some six hundred pounds in weight. Hewas arming for the struggle he felt to be inevitable, inuring himself tothe hardships he foresaw. He began by taking to drawing again inthe evening, in secret. Then he made up his mind to show asmuch determination in clineino- to his vocation as his father in theattempt to oppose it. Give me three hundred francs, he said tothe elder Meissonier, and you shall hear nothing of me till I have 12 MEISSONIER made a name. He was ready to set off for Naples, and there enter theservice of the first painter he could find. At first Iiis father turnetl adeaf ear to his naive outpourings. Finally, he consented to give hima week in which to look for a master, who would guarantee his aptitudeand undertake his education. Meissonier accordingly set to work to seek both testimony andguidance. The eight days were almost gone, and he had not found. M. FERIOT S HOUSE AT ST. his man. One morning he took his courage in both hands, and wentto see Delaroche, whom he knew only by repute. Delaroche was atwork on his Death of Lady Jane Grey. The interview was conditions of apprenticeship in Delaroches studio were impossiblewith an empty purse. He was going home sadly, not knowing whereto turn for help, when he met M. Levesque, a friend of his fathers, andan engraver of seals, at the corner of a street near the Palais Royal. Where are you going with that melancholy face? Meissonier told EARLY YEARS 13 him that his father insisted on his finding a master in a weeks time, orgiving up his folly altogther. He had a sketch with him, in the liningof his hat, but he had not had courage to show it to M. whom he had just been. M. Levesque sent him to the PassageSainte-Marie, to a friend of his own, one Jules Potier, a sometime prixde Rome, who now made a living as a drawing m
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