Among artists, dissatisfaction was growing ever stronger against the implausible gods and heroes painted by academicians and also against the escapist tendency of the Romantics, who loved to paint exotic scenes, removed from ordinary experience. The increasing materialism and scientific objectivity of the nineteenth century demanded a realistic style. The role of leader in the Realist school was taken by Gustave Courbet (page 23). This big, boisterous son of a wealthy farmer in Ornans came to Paris in 1842. After a few lessons, Courbet taught himself to paint, chiefly by copying in the Louvre galleries. His large, coarsely executed pictures of common people shocked most of his contemporaries. When his work was refused at the International Exhibition of 1855, he opened his own pavilion, boldly titling it “_Le Pavillon du Réalisme_.” Among his best-known sayings are, “Painting should consist only in the depiction of things visible and tangible to the artist,” and, “Show me an angel, and _then_ I’ll paint it.” His outspoken nature led him to embroil himself in politics after the Franco-Prussian War. Finally, to escape imprisonment he fled to Switzerland, where he spent his last years in exile. Both Daumier’s and Courbet’s realism depended upon their acceptance of everyday subjects as worthy of being painted. But realism could be manifest, too, in meticulous attention to details. Henri Fantin-Latour (page 25), a friend of our American painter Whistler, exhibits this exacting realism in portraits and still-life pictures. Strongly influenced by the early developments in photography, he produced works which, because they were pleasant and unassuming, were often shown at the annual _Salon_ beside the conservative paintings of approved academicians. In 1863, however, he found himself with the young “rebels” who were allowed to exhibit only at the _Salon des Refusés_, and he began then to associate with the more advanced artists. Édouard Manet (page 27) was probably more influential as a realist than even Courbet. His father, a Paris magistrate, offered him a choice between studying law and joining the merchant marine. After a try at the latter, in 1857 he was allowed to take up painting. Ironically he was warned by his academic teacher that unless he gave up his common subjects, he “would be only the Daumier of painting.” His boldly painted, unorthodox canvases stirred great controversy, were defended by Emile Zola, the realistic novelist, and brought new courage to other artists who sought to escape from academic dullness.