The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1890-01-12
THE ANGELUS
New York Observer.

- Af 49, L. III = ulAINllo1s WhlJu - 1 =
ported in the Brooklyn Eagle. We give
the following extracts:
" Perhaps no great picture is more
familiar 10 us through etchings, photo
gravures and common prints than the
'Angelus Of Millet. It has the simpli-
city and manifest meaning which APP
peals to the popular heart. Two peas
ants, man and a woman standing in 4
wide field, hear the bells from neigh
boring church spire ring tho hour for
evening prayer, and bow their uncov-
cred heads. This is what we rec at the
first glance. But this is far from all.
No one who has looked upon the origi-
mel 'Angelus can fail to feel thatprayer
has been painted a sublimely true
soul speaks Jus from the canvas.
Before we think together Of the sig
nifcance of this Gospel in color, let US,
for the sake of winning a mood Of
mind and a reverence Of heart, forget
the picture and look into the face OF
the artist. Jean Francois Millet was
the apostle Of the peasant, the evange-
list of the fields. the broad and simple
teacher, who read for men the deeper
lessons God hath set upon pages Of earsh
and sky.
"Millet was satisfied to take the peas
ants as they actually were. Classic
types were not more suggestive than
these SONS and daughters of toll. He
does not frill them with fnery, nor ruff
them up with senhmeutalism. Their
hard. uneventful labor is painfully en-
phasized because he had known its bit
terness and burden. They may be poor,
but they do not murmur. Their gar
ments may be patched, but they are
never ragged. They are not paupers,
out belong to their fields and their
homes. There ia an expression Of M
ture put into their figures and faces
which is absolutely matchless. They
have but a suaut touch Of beauty, and
yet are full Of magnetic force. They
stand up draped with a pathos and
power which is beyond speech, as
though the travail Of the world, the
voices Of storms and the silence Of pa
tieni enduring faith had found room in
their souls. They are a people sweet
ened by the love Of mothers and wives
ana children. Il has been said that
when Millet paints man alone at his
task there clings around him the story
Of the wife and babe at his fireside,
while the invisible presence Of the hus-
band and father haunts the space where
the mother watches her sleeping child.
These are the things felt, but not seen.
"When 1 saw The Angelus, several
years ago. ia the palace Of VI. Secretan,
in Paris. did not apprehend that it
would be dislodged so soon from his
magnificent drawing and that
three nations would contend for the
possession of it. 1t is certainly the
greatest picture produced within the
century, when you apply all the tests
which sincere greatness demands. 1t
makes its own appeal, mighty, tender,
persuasive and real; an appeal which
should bring a heather to his knees.
It is a picture which silently demands
the surrender Of the soul, because
other souls are reverently drawing nigh
to God.
Look at the field in which these two
peasants are standings how it recedes
and keeps on roceding; what reach aud
breadth there are in the distances before
us. You remember what Millet said:
Every landscape, however small,
should contain the possibility Of its be-
ing indefinitely extended. Every hori-
ION. however narrow, should be felt to
be a segment Of the great circle that
sweeps round the globe lie has
shown us this truth here. Il is the
time Of evening. The sky IS full
OF pale light, the final trail Of the
sui's down going. A few clouds
like the lost robes Of the seraphim, float
in the zenith. while just under these a
dock Of birds hy toward shelter for the
night. 4 spire pierces the air IN the
distance. The bells are ringing; the
time for rest has come. These two
peasants have ceased from toll. aud,
with bare heads bowed, are praying.
The figures are expressive Of perfect
devotion. Each face is sofIened
bv reverence. You look upon the
mans full front the woman is
in profile. They are only conscious Of
God. He who guides the birds and
clouds 10 the sky is also with them in
the fields. Their hearts are seeking
help from an infinite love. They wor-
ship and rehearse for us, the craving Of
humanity for a strength which Is not
o. this world. They are praying, not
posturing, unlike the Pharisee who
stood and prayed with himself, with
eyes for his own virtues rather than
God.
As we yield ourselves to the charm
of these two simple peasants we are
taught the way into the secret place OF
the Highest. Clothed with humility.
ye. full Of trust. they have found their
Father. The artist has deity touched
the difference between the prayers of a
man and woman. he bends his head.
awkwardly holding bis hat il his
hands; is constrained and half coz
scious. She bows like a water rush un-
der the wind, clasping her palms be-
meath a face beautifully unconscious,
revealing q heart utterly lost TO
L..