"The boldness of her conception is sublime. As a creative artist I place her first among women, living or dead. And if you ask me why she thus towers above her fellows, by the majesty of her work silencing every detractor, I will say it is because she listens to God, and not to man. She is true to self." Victor Hugo") ?>

"Rosa Bonheur is one of the most distinguished contemporary painters; at the same time she is by her fascinating personality one of the most interesting. It was by her passion for Art—the moving power of her life—and by her high artistic principle and love of Nature alone, that she has acquired the very distinguished position she occupies to-day." RENE PEYROL") ?>

"The ever-present desire to bring myself nearer to truth, and an incessant research after simplicity are my two guides. I have never grown tired of study. It is to-day, and it has been during my whole life a happiness to me, for it is with persistent work alone that we can approach the unsolvable problem of ever-changing Nature, the problem which more than any other elevates our soul and entertains in us thoughts of justice, of goodness, and of charity." ROSA BONHEUR") ?>

Her life is most interesting, compassing as it does early years of poverty and struggle and later years crowned with wealth and fame. Long ago she ceased to belong to Paris or even to France and passed, in the painting of two pictures, "The Horse Fair" and "Oxen Ploughing," into that greater community, the world, where she will ever hold an honored place among its citizens, all marked by the royal gift of genius.

While great judges of pictures appreciate and honor her, it is no disparagement to say that her fame to-day is spreading through the children and youth of our own and other lands even more than through the critics. Indeed it is quite safe to assert that if a vote were taken, by the great army of school children everywhere, Rosa Bonheur would stand their first choice among painters. To my notion, even the blue ribbon of the Legion of Honor, which the artist so proudly wore, would be enhanced in the distinction it carried were this vote of our young people appended.

The majority of our great artists have been men, so when we can list a woman, great, powerful, fully equal to the artist's task, it is to score a triumph for women everywhere and for our girls, from whom "all wise ladies grow."

On the 22nd of March, 1828, there was born into a humble artist's home in the prosaic old town of Bordeaux, on the west coast of France, the little girl who became the famous artist, Rosa Bonheur. For years the father had been an artist. In the course of his teaching he had had among his pupils a beautiful young musician with whom he fell in love and whom he later married. Rosa Bonheur was their first child. When she was born, her father was little more than twenty-two and the mother still younger. The new family lived with Rosa's maternal grandparents. Here she grew up in perfect freedom being left much to herself. The cats and dogs were her playfellows. In fact, she was fond of following to its destination any little animal that came along. Such reckless wandering of so young a child often caused anxiety to her parents lest she might some time come to harm, but she always returned invigorated by her adventures.

Two brothers were shortly added to the family circle and a congenial playmate they had in their elder sister, whose brain outran their own in inventing youthful sports.

Bordeaux was a commercial city where there was little or nothing to encourage an artist, so it was an easy matter for friends of the Bonheurs to prevail upon them to remove to Paris where there were enlarged opportunities of every sort. Perhaps the principal reason why the change of residence was so easily effected was because the income for the support of a rapidly growing family did not increase and circumstances made it seem unlikely that it would ever be more. The delicate mother took from her busy days time to give a few lessons in music, but even this did not swell the income much.

Hoping to better their circumstances they went to Paris just on the eve of the Revolution of 1930. Rosa was fond of saying that her youngest sister, Juliette, was born at the mouth of the cannon. She was born shortly after their arrival in Paris and within close range of the hostile guns.

The trying times of a revolution were not the best for the father to gain the patronage he so much needed. He quite soon, however, obtained a goodly number of pupils and through the friendship of the scientist, St. Hilaire, he was engaged to make illustrations for the latter's work on natural history.

Their first home in Paris was over a bath house. Just across the street was a pork butcher's shop having as its sign a gaudily painted wooden boar. Longing for the home things of Bordeaux, the homesick little girl used to steal across the street and caress lovingly this brilliant wooden pig in front of the butcher's shop.

There was a boy's school near by and the master, noticing that the child was restless in her idleness, asked her father to send her with her brothers to his school. The privilege was gladly accepted by parents and child. Rosa was far from troubled that she was the only girl in school. Indeed she rather liked it and she entered with so much spirit into the sports of the boys that they were very fond of her, forgetting entirely the usual feeling of boys, that girls are too gentle to have fun with.

At about this time the Bonheurs moved to another part of the city and here became acquainted with a family by the name of Micas. One member of the family was a queer, pinched little girl named Natalie that the children laughed at and teased with all sorts of taunting questions. It was a strange turn in the wheel of fortune that in later years made this eccentric little girl Rosa Bonheur's most trusted friend. For this companion and dear friend more than for herself she built a villa at Nice where they two could more comfortably spend the winter when age and infirmities increased.

In 1835, the dear mother, worn out with toil and anxiety, died, leaving the gifted but impractical father to care for four young children alone. This appalling task and his deep sorrow stunned him for a time. When he came to himself he saw no other way to care for the children but to separate them, thus adding to his grief, already poignant enough, that other sorrow to a parent, a divided family. Juliette was sent to Bordeaux to a friend of her mother's. The two brothers were put in one boarding school and Rosa was to be sent to another.

Our artist, at least, did not thrive in her surroundings. Up to this time she had led the life of a child of nature, wholly unrestrained. Now the bonds of school life chafed. Her fondness for boyish sports had in no way diminished. Her carelessness in dress made her an object of ridicule among her prim mates. The blank pages of her school books were the most attractive to her, for she scribbled them full of all sorts of sketches of animals and even caricatured her teachers on the sly. Taking everything into consideration, the authorities of the school were not favorably impressed with their young charge. One day, armed with a sword and followed by some of her associates, she made a furious attack on the loaded rose bushes in the front yard. This garden was a choice spot and when the mischief she had done was known to the authorities her doom was settled. She was sent home to her father. Imagine if you can the scene of her combat. Her victims, the blushing roses, dotted all the lawn with their mutilated loveliness and the bushes themselves looked as forlorn as a city that has been sacked. No wonder those who loved the garden saw in the rough frolic an unforgivable transgression. As for the young marauder, she saw only in her act a break for freedom and she went home to her father with joy.