An example of his coloring, in its most lovely aspects, is the Trumpet. The scene is a cottage interior, in which a young mother, with a babe in her arms, sits beside a cradle containing another little one, and turns to quiet her roguish boy, who stands somewhat sulkily by her chair, reluctant to forego the pleasure of blowing on his trumpet. “Silence! do not awaken him!” is what the mother seems to say; and these words form the title under which the picture first appeared.

Greuze could not altogether escape the blight of that artificiality which was everywhere characteristic of his times, and nowhere more conspicuous than in France. “Soyez piquant, si vous ne pouvez pas être vrai,” was his advice to a fellow artist, Ducreux; and his own work too often shows evidence of the sacrifice of truth to piquancy. His single figures and heads are not, as a class, so true to nature as his compositions, although they are much better known to the public. Scattered far and wide through all the great art galleries of the world, they have been greatly admired for their delicate coloring, and for those qualities of prettiness which are always attractive.

Nearly all these purport to be representations of children, but they are certainly not like the children of our own households, nor, indeed, like those of the same artist’s domestic pictures. They reverse the proverb, by being young heads on old shoulders, the face and features of childhood on the mature and well-developed figure of womanhood. The expression, too, is a curious combination of childlike simplicity with the sentimental melancholy of young maidenhood; and one cannot escape the impression that the models are not genuine peasant children, but pretty and somewhat worldly young women, masquerading in pastoral costumes for a fancy ball.

From the long list of examples of this class, both figures and heads, a few well-known subjects will suggest the type: The Milkmaid, the Little Pouter, Simplicity, the Girl with an Orange, and the Broken Pitcher.

[the broken pitcher.—greuze.]

The last is probably more familiar than any other work of Greuze. It attained an immense popularity in the lifetime of the artist, attracting many people to his studio. Among the visitors was Mademoiselle Philipon, afterwards known to fame as Madame Roland, and her delightful description[14] gives a complete idea of the picture:—

“It is a little girl, naïve, fresh, charming, who has just broken her pitcher; she holds it on her arm, near the fountain where the accident occurred. Her eyes are downcast, her lips half parted; she tries to account for her mishap, and does not know if she is in fault. Nothing could be more piquant and charming. The only criticism one could suggest is that Monseiur Greuze has not made the little maid sorry enough, so that in the future she will not be tempted to return to the fountain!”

The heroine of the broken pitcher is dressed in white, has blue eyes and auburn hair, cherry lips, and pink-and-white complexion.