understand the heart of a child. There is a certain touchstone of sympathetic imagination by which we must test the essential quality of the pictures. To begin with, let us look for something better than mere doll-like superficial prettiness. The child need not be pretty to be interesting or attractive. Just a plain little everyday kind of girl who looks like a nice playmate, or a jolly good-natured sort of boy who is ready for any fun, makes the most delightful picture. A self-conscious, artificial child is as undesirable in a picture as in real life, and that artist is most successful whose work is most simple and natural. This is why Velasquez is so great, and Greuze often so weak, and Van Dyck so uneven. Where in the world of art can you match the simple babyish gravity of the infant Baltasar (Boston Art Museum), the pathetic timidity of Maria Theresa, or the sweet shyness of the Princess Margaret? Velasquez was free from the common fault of overmodeling the child’s face, painting only what he saw. Never straining after effects, his perfect self-restraint was an element of his success. All their absurd and gorgeous court costumes cannot hide the true child nature of the little Spanish royalties.
Now the young girls of Greuze, with all their prettiness, are not really natural. They are consciously posing for your admiration. And as you come to look at them the second time, you see that they are not so young as they seem to be. Some of them are only make-believe little girls, with arch smiles. Even the charming maiden of the Broken Pitcher, so carefully
