The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1897-05-20
MILLET'S STRUGGLE.
NE AND HIS FAMILY WE'RE OFTEN ON
THE BRINK OF STARVATION.

Suffering Shortened His Life, but Never
weakened His Enthusiasm. He Was
the Son Of a Farmer and Worked at the
PIow Until Eighteen Years Old.
Jean FRANCHISE Millet has for the
the first time been put adequately be-
fore the reading public by Julin Cart
wright, whose handsome octave vols
ume, Jean FRANCHISE Millet: His Life
and Letters (Nfacmillian). is u care
fully written and appreciatlve review
of his life aud works.
For in Millet's case, as Miss Cart
wright points out, the man and the ar.
tist were bound closely together.
His first masterpieces were rejected
by the jury Of the Salon. The pic
lures which now fetch their thousands
were sold for few pounds to buy
bread for his children. Pitiful as the
story is, 1t is none the less noble and
inspiring. His sufferings saddened
and shortened his life, but they did
not crush his spirit or weaken the
message which he hod to give.
1t is pretty story. that of the bud
ding forth of the boys genius. Always
impressionable to the wonders Of ma
ture, the vague STRINGS in his heart
found expression at last through the
sight of some old engravings in an H.
Illustrated Bible. Then he tried his
hand at drawing the objects around
the fields. While his father slum-
bered ON a couch at his side, Francois
would sketch the COWS, the sheep, the
trees. Often the father. waking from
his sleep, would get up and take a
peep at tho drawing ON which the boy
was intently engaged, and return soft
ly to his place without disturbing him,
well pleased to see this new develop
ment of his sons powers.
But it set him to serious thinking.
One Sunday when the lad was about
eighteen years old. he spoke to him
and asked him whether he wished to
be n painter. Francois answered in
the affirmative. Then with kindness
that the youth never forgot, the elder
Mulet said:
MY poor Francois, i see that this
idea has taken hold of you. l should
like to have sent you long ago to learn
this trade OF painter, which people
say is such a fine thing, but 1t was
impossible. You were the eldest of
four boys. and could not do without
you. But now that your brothers are
growing up will no longer hinder you
from learning what you are 80 anx-
ious to know. We will go to Cher.
bourg and see II you have really
enough talent to be able to earn a lir-
ing
At Cherbourg they called upon an
artist named Bon Dumoucel. The lat
ter saw at a glance the originality and
merit Of the country lads productions
You are laughing at me-" he said
roughly; you don't mean to tell me
that this young man made those draw
ings by himselfw
"Yes, certainly" said the father
gravely, II saw him make them my
self"
Il don't believe it," returned Du-
moucel. 81 see that the method is
awkward. but as for the composition
repeat, 1t is impossible
When at last the incredulous artist
was convinced, he turned to the father
and exclaimed:
well, then all can say is you will
be damned for having kept him so
long at the plow, for your boy has the
making of a great painter in him."
And he agreed ON the spot to take
Francois as his pupil. Later came the
II years stay in Paris, the painful
apprenticeship to art. the still more
painful effort to obtain recOgnl-
hon. Time after time his pictures
were rejected by the Salon. He was
now husband and a father. In his
dire need he accepted whatever orders
he could get. and painted signs and
portraits for the smallest sums. Even
then he had great difficulty to get
paid, and often met with harsh aud
cruel treatment.
His wife died. He married again
under temporary but illusionary
sleam OF sunshine. Then darkness
once more fell upon the little family.
80 late as lS4S kind-hearted artist,
learning OF his plight, raised 100 francs
Tor him from the minister of the in
terlor. who was likewise the head of
The administration of fine arts. AT
mat time all Paris was talking of his
pictures, but, alas! not buying them.
Some OF his sketches now found a
small sale. These were mostly OF
nude subjects. But one day he hap.
pened to overhear two youths speak
ing OF pastel he had already sold,
representing two women in a bath.
"A man named Millet painted it, u
said one. 'He does nothing but paint
naked women"
The words We're a shock to the un.
willing eavesdropper. His friends had
orten admired his nude figures and
praised his skill in flesh color. But
never until that moment had he real
ized that upon them depended his
chief reputation as an artist. His SOU
rose up in horror.-New York Herald.