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front. The condemned man was substituted for the dying woman--same



pallor, same glance, same appeal to God. Instead of the Dutch doctor,

he had painted the cold, official figure of the sheriff's clerk



attired in black; but he had added an old woman to the young one of

Gerard Douw. The cruelly simple and good-humored face of the



executioner completed and dominated the group. This plagiarism, very

cleverly disguised, was not discovered. The catalogue contained the



following:--

510. Grassou de Fougeres (Pierre), rue de Navarin, 2.



Death-toilet of a Chouan, condemned to execution in 1809.

Though wholly second-rate, the picture had immense success, for it



recalled the affair of the "chauffeurs," of Mortagne. A crowd

collected every day before the now fashionablecanvas; even Charles X.



paused to look at it. "Madame," being told of the patient life of the

poor Breton, became enthusiastic over him. The Duc d'Orleans asked the



price of the picture. The clergy told Madame la Dauphine that the

subject was suggestive of good thoughts; and there was, in truth, a



most satisfying religious tone about it. Monseigneur the Dauphin

admired the dust on the stone-floor,--a huge blunder, by the way, for



Fougeres had painted greenish tones suggestive of mildew along the

base of the walls. "Madame" finally bought the picture for a thousand



francs, and the Dauphin ordered another like it. Charles X. gave the

cross of the Legion of honor to this son of a peasant who had fought



for the royal cause in 1799. (Joseph Bridau, the great painter, was

not yet decorated.) The minister of the Interior ordered two church



pictures of Fougeres.

This Salon of 1829 was to Pierre Grassou his whole fortune, fame,



future, and life. Be original, invent, and you die by inches; copy,

imitate, and you'll live. After this discovery of a gold mine, Grassou



de Fougeres obtained his benefit of the fatal principle to which

society owes the wretched mediocrities to whom are intrusted in these



days the election of leaders in all social classes; who proceed,

naturally, to elect themselves and who wage a bitter war against all



true talent. The principle of electionapplied indiscriminately is

false, and France will some day abandon it.



Nevertheless the modesty, simplicity, and genuine surprise of the good

and gentle Fougeres silenced all envy and all recriminations. Besides,



he had on his side all of his clan who had succeeded, and all who

expected to succeed. Some persons, touched by the persistentenergy of



a man whom nothing had discouraged, talked of Domenichino and said:--

"Perseverance in the arts should be rewarded. Grassou hasn't stolen



his successes; he has delved for ten years, the poor dear man!"

That exclamation of "poor dear man!" counted for half in the support



and the congratulations which the painter received. Pity sets up

mediocrities as envy pulls down great talents, and in equal numbers.



The newspapers, it is true, did not spare criticism, but the chevalier

Fougeres digested them as he had digested the counsel of his friends,



with angelic patience.

Possessing, by this time, fifteen thousand francs, laboriously earned,



he furnished an apartment and studio in the rue de Navarin, and

painted the picture ordered by Monseigneur the Dauphin, also the two



church pictures, and delivered them at the time agreed on, with a

punctuality that was very discomforting to the exchequer of the



ministry, accustomed to a different course of action. But--admire the

good fortune of men who are methodical--if Grassou, belated with his



work, had been caught by the revolution of July he would not have got

his money.



By the time he was thirty-seven Fougeres had manufactured for Elie

Magus some two hundred pictures, all of them utterly unknown, by the



help of which he had attained to that satisfying manner, that point of

execution before which the true artist shrugs his shoulders and the



bourgeoisie worships. Fougeres was dear to friends for rectitude of

ideas, for steadiness of sentiment, absolute kindliness, and great



loyalty; though they had no esteem for his palette, they loved the man

who held it.



"What a misfortune it is that Fougeres has the vice of painting!" said

his comrades.



But for all this, Grassou gave excellent counsel, like those

feuilletonists incapable of writing a book who know very well where a



book is wanting. There was this difference, however, between literary

critics and Fougeres; he was eminently sensitive to beauties; he felt



them, he acknowledged them, and his advice was instinct with a spirit




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