The Rossets
Sofya Dmitrieva
In 1755, weary of political persecution and a life constantly on the move, Voltaire settled in Geneva. He was drawn to the city’s Protestant character and its thriving role as a vibrant publishing hub. Though he may have intended his stay to be brief, it ultimately lasted 23 years, ending only a few months before his death in 1778.
For the first five years, Voltaire resided on the outskirts of Geneva at an estate he playfully named Les Délices. In 1759, he relocated to Ferney, a small territory just across the French border. The move was strategic: while it technically placed him back in France, Ferney’s location – far from Paris and shielded by the Jura Mountains – provided him with time to make arrangements should an arrest warrant ever be issued. It also allowed him to maintain a theatre, free from the restrictions and controversies that his theatrical activities at Les Délices had aroused among Geneva's Calvinist authorities.
Despite his physical distance from Europe’s major cultural centres, Voltaire remained at the forefront of its cultural life, maintaining an active presence through his extensive correspondence, a steady stream of visitors, and, above all, his prolific literary and activist output. During these final two decades, he produced some of his most famous works, including Candide and the Dictionnaire philosophique, and emerged as a passionate advocate for human rights. His interventions on behalf of Jean Calas (1698–1762), the Sirven family, Thomas Arthur, comte de Lally (1702–1766), and Dominique Gaillard d'Étallonde (1748–1788) exposed religious intolerance and juridical abuse, igniting debates across Europe.
As Voltaire’s fame grew, so too did the public’s appetite for his visual representations. While some artists made the long journey to Les Délices and Ferney to capture his likeness (see, for example, VI24, VI414, VI432, VI589, and VI616), Voltaire had to rely largely on local talent – most notably the multimedia artist Jean Huber (1721–1786) and the sculptural workshop of the Rosset family from Saint-Claude.
The Rosset workshop, active since the 16th century, was led by Joseph Rosset (1706–1786).1 His designs were refined and reworked by his five artist sons: Jean François alias Joseph Rosset (1734–1783), Jean-Joseph-Nicolas Rosset (1737–1809), Jacques-Joseph Rosset (1741–1826), François-Marie Rosset (1743–1824), and Clause-Antoine Rosset (1749–1818). Before meeting Voltaire, the Rossets were known for their polychrome church sculptures and devotional objects for pilgrims visiting Saint-Claude to honour the relics of the town’s patron saint. Working in a range of materials, including, notably, alabaster (“Jura marble”)2 and wood, they had historically been renowned for ivory carving.3
Voltaire met Joseph Rosset in the autumn of 17654 through Charles Gabriel Christin (1741–1799),5 a Saint-Claude lawyer who would become an important collaborator, assisting Voltaire with the Commentaire sur le livre des délits et des peines, Questions sur l’Encyclopédie, and a memorandum advocating the abolition of mainmorte on the lands of Saint-Claude.6
The first bust to result from this introduction was described by Voltaire in a letter to Étienne Noël Damilaville (1723–1768), dated 27 January 1766:
Although this early bust has not survived, we can visualise it from a later alabaster bust from 1770 (VI52), now in the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Dijon. The bust, which closely matches Voltaire’s description, shows him in a justacorps and long wig, truncated at the shoulders and draped in classical style.8 The awkward combination of contemporary costume and a classical drapery explains Voltaire’s critical reaction.
Bust of Voltaire “Tête Nue” with Open Shirt and Classical Drapery
The “poor savages” quickly learnt their lesson, and in their next prototype, stripped Voltaire of all unnecessary accessories. The result of this revision – a bust (VI48) showing Voltaire “tête nue”, without a wig – became the workshop’s greatest success.
The marquis de Villette was probably present during the sitting for this bust. In his necrology of Joseph Rosset, he recalled how Voltaire, while playing chess, casually removed his wig to “offer” his head to the sculptor.9
While Voltaire’s expressions vary across different versions, the bust consistently portrays him with his head turned to the left, prominent wrinkles and joints framing his features, and his toothless mouth curved into the characteristic half-smile. He wears an open shirt, with a drapery over his shoulders (sometimes knotted beneath the truncation or held by a strap or brooch), suggesting both a contemporary shawl and a Roman toga.
This formula, possibly inspired by Jacques Antoine Dassier’s (1715–1759) medal of Montesquieu10 – which would later inform the Rossets’ own bust of that philosopher11 – skillfully merges intimacy with classicism. Voltaire appears in informal attire, the kind he would wear only among his closest friends, yet the combination of classical drapery, bare head, and veristic features recalls sculpted portraits of Roman senators. Voltaire himself described the bust as “dans le goût antique”.12
This balance between private and public, the everyday and the eternal, is likely what ensured the bust’s lasting success.13 The Rossets reproduced it at least 20 times in ivory and alabaster (see VI48), as well as in larger terracotta versions, one of which (VI51) famously crowns the stove by Léonard Racle (1736–1791) in the Chambre du cœur at Ferney. And this count does not include the numerous copies made by other artists.
On 13 May 1766, Voltaire sent an ivory version to Damilaville14 and soon commissioned two more in Jura marble:15 one for Jean Le Rond d'Alembert (1717–1783)16 and another, perhaps, for his closest friend, Charles Augustin Feriol, comte d’Argental (1700–1788).17 One of these copies sent to Paris found its way into the Correspondance littéraire. Writing in April 1767, Friedrich Melchior, Baron von Grimm (1723–1807), described it as follows:
A craftsman from Saint-Claude, in Franche-Comté, who is not affiliated with any academy of sculpture, but who carves figures in ivory with great truth, simplicity, and expression, made last year, also in ivory, a bust of Monsieur de Voltaire: bare-headed, shirt open at the chest, and a cloak draped over the shoulders. Of all the portraits I have seen of our patriarch, this bust is the most lifelike; it captures the play of his features perfectly, without exaggeration or caricature.
Monsieur Simon, a skilled moulder who is about to join Monsieur Falconet in St. Petersburg, wanted to make a plaster cast of the bust before his departure and succeeded wonderfully. He has already sold a good number at one louis apiece. A devotee of this saint inscribed at the base of his bust: O lux immensi publica mundi!18
Within a year of its conception, Rosset’s bust not only had travelled from remote Franche-Comté to Paris but was being actively reproduced: first in plaster by Simon,19 and soon after in porcelain.
One of the elite subscribers of the Correspondance littéraire, King Stanisław II August of Poland (1732–1798), read Grimm’s review and requested a plaster copy from his friend, the celebrated salonnière Marie Thérèse Geoffrin (1699–1777).20 Geoffrin, writing on 7 June 1767, parried the suggestion, insisting that the bust should be made in ivory or biscuit porcelain instead:
The biscuit version Geoffrin was referring to was indeed underway at the Sèvres porcelain manufactory, produced at the initiative of the Russian diplomat Dmitri Alekseyevich Golitsyn (1734–1803),22 Catherine the Great’s art agent in Paris. Grimm reported in November of the same year:
The Sèvres’s biscuit (VI64) closely followed the original Rosset bust, with only minimal modifications – notably, making the drapery more voluminous and harmonising its folds with those of the chemise (which may explain Grimm’s dissatisfaction with Voltaire’s “short neck”). While Golitsyn’s ivory version is now lost, two alabaster busts from 1767, of a very similar type, are extant.24
The reproductions of the bust, in a Benjaminian sense, only increased the allure of the original. Having perhaps had one of the manuscript copies of the Correspondance littéraire read to her, or encountered the bust’s replicas in friends’ homes, the Marquise Du Deffand (1696–1780) wrote to Voltaire on 26 May 1767:
Thus, through the combined efforts of Voltaire and Grimm, and the proliferation of reproductions, the Rossets secured a steady clientele in Paris. From that point onward, the workshop that had long specialised in devotional sculpture now turned almost entirely to portraiture – and above all, to the likeness of Voltaire.
Standing Statuette of Voltaire Holding a Book
In 1767, a year after conceiving the bust with the open shirt, the Rossets introduced another highly influential prototype: a standing figure of Voltaire holding a book. In a letter to the comte d’Argental dated 11 April that year, Voltaire wrote:
With characteristic self-deprecation, Voltaire compared the statuette to the engraved figures of Jacques Callot (1592–1635), likely alluding to the series Les Gueux (ca. 1622–23), which depicts beggars in rags with grotesque expressions and contorted postures.27
In reality, the Rossets’ statuette (VI57) could not have been more different. It represents Voltaire standing confidently, his left hand on his hip and his right hand holding a book with his fingers inserted between the pages – perhaps, a nod to Maurice Quentin de La Tour’s (1704–1788) celebrated pastel portrait (VI47). He is dressed sumptuously: a justacorps worn over a richly embroidered waistcoat, a shirt with lace jabot and cuffs, culottes, Richelieu-style shoes, a long wig, and a geometric hat. The statuette offers a striking contrast to the minimalist open-shirt bust. With these two models, the Rossets appear to have been appealing to two distinct audiences: one drawn to Voltaire’s intimate, domestic likeness, and the other to his authoritative public image.
There was clear demand for this latter type as well. Over the following decades, the Rossets reproduced the statuette at least 12 times, and, like the bust, it circulated widely in plaster28 and porcelain. The Rossets’ growing reputation is evident in the fact that this time the model was adapted beyond France: in 1778, it was reproduced in black basalt by Josiah Wedgwood (1730–1795) at his Etruria factory in Staffordshire (VI66), and around the same time by the short-lived Dirmstein faience manufactory (VI67).
As with the busts, Voltaire often used these statuettes as gifts for his friends. In 1767, shortly after the new model appeared, he sent one to d’Alembert.29 By 1773, the process had become almost routine for both Voltaire and the Rossets. In a letter to Michel Paul Guy de Chabanon (1730–1792), Voltaire noted that the statuettes typically required six weeks to complete30 – a detail suggesting that by then he had been commissioning and gifting them regularly.
Other Sculptures (1770s)
By the 1770s, having established a steady clientele, the Rossets began to diversify their production. Joseph Rosset created several new statuettes, including one depicting Voltaire in fur-trimmed coat (VI53) – a motif common in Voltaire iconography. These pieces, however, never achieved the influence of his earlier prototypes and remained unique works.
The Rossets’ more impactful creations from this decade were narrative scenes carved by Joseph Rosset in ivory for the lids of boxwood snuffboxes,31 and enlarged into terracotta bas-reliefs by François-Marie Rosset in collaboration with Léonard Racle, architect of the château de Ferney, who also operated a small faience manufactory in Versoix.32 These compositions included Voltaire Seated Beneath a Tree (VI62), Voltaire and the Peasants (VI63), and Voltaire in Dialogue with Rousseau (VI58).
In all three scenes, Voltaire is shown seated beneath a tree, holding a book in one hand and a cane in the other – a motif perhaps derived from Joseph Rosset’s earlier alabaster figurine (VI61). His attire recalls that of the standing statuette – a wig, cravat, waistcoat, justacorps, culottes, and shoes – but is more modest in decoration. This simplicity seems intentional, aligning with the tone of the compositions, which present Voltaire as a kind of philosopher-hermit. In several of these works, he is paired with one of his main ideological adversaries, Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778), who likewise famously led a secluded, rural existence. Together, in the Rossets’ imagery, they embody the rural thinker, standing in contrast to the polished persona of the urban intellectual exemplified by their encylopédiste contemporaries.
The most original of the Rossets’ narrative scenes, Voltaire and the Peasants of Mount Jura,33 depicts Voltaire listening to a group of five peasants, one of whom gestures animatedly as if recounting their hardships to him. The peasants of the Jura Mountains remained subject to mainmorte – a feudal law, requiring that, upon a peasant’s death, his property and land revert to the seigneur. In 1770, Voltaire, together with Charles-Gabriel Christin, published a plea against the canons of Saint-Claude, who continued to uphold this oppressive right.34 François-Marie Rosset’s four versions of the bas-relief were produced around the same time (1770–71) and clearly allude to Voltaire’s advocacy for the Jura peasants.
In 1779, a year after Voltaire’s death, one of the four versions was exhibited at the Salon de la Correspondance. An anonymous reviewer described it as follows:
M. de Voltaire is shown seated at the foot of a tree, a book in hand, in the middle of open countryside. A family is positioned before him, and from the expression of interest and compassion in the figure of the famous old man, as well as from the sorrow and pleading look of the father and mother – accompanied by several children – it is evident that his habitual benevolence is about to be exercised, and that misfortunes are being recounted to him.
The background to this: while out walking one day, he encountered an entire family who seemed not to know where to go. A few belongings, divided into several bundles carried by each person according to their strength, revealed both poverty and a hasty departure. He questioned these unfortunate people and learned that they had just been evicted from a farm for a debt of four thousand francs resulting from legal proceedings. No sooner had he heard their story than he sent them back. And indeed, the four thousand francs were paid, and he became their benefactor – not in the manner of a patron, but as a father does good for his children.
The artist’s talents earned all kinds of praise, independently of the excellent choice of subject.35
Whether or not this specific anecdote is factual, it played a lasting role in the “hagiography”36 of Voltaire and became a recurring theme in his visual representation.
In 1771, François-Marie Rosset moved to Paris to study at the Académie royale de peinture et de sculpture,37 and likely to serve as a liaison between the Saint-Claude workshop and its expanding Parisian clientele. Ever supportive of the Comtois artists, Grimm announced his arrival in the Correspondance littéraire:
As Grimm’s commentary attests, by 1771 the Rossets had expanded their repertoire beyond Voltaire to include other leading Enlightenment figures such as Montesquieu, Rousseau, and d’Alembert.39 Around the same time, they also began producing busts,40 figurines,41 and bas-reliefs42 of Henry IV and Maximilien de Béthune, Duke of Sully (1560–1641) – the protagonists of Voltaire’s celebrated epic La Henriade. The busts of Enlightenment intellectuals and Voltairean heroes were often sold as pendants to the “tête nue” bust of Voltaire43 and were almost certainly the Rossets’ principal source of income in Paris.
Thus, while Voltaire remained an active patron of the workshop – regularly commissioning not only portraits of himself and others44 but also practical objects such as chalices and candelabra45 – by the 1770s the Rossets had secured an independent clientele. Their success beyond Saint-Claude reflected the growing demand for representations of Voltaire and other Enlightenment figures.
Conclusion
From a distant mountain workshop once devoted to carving religious sculptures for pilgrims, the Rossets rose within just two decades to achieve pan-European acclaim.46 The Marquis de Villette observed in Joseph Rosset’s obituary that “few collectors’ cabinets, even among European sovereigns, are without his works.”47 This success was driven largely by the promotional efforts of Voltaire and Grimm, but also by the growing demand for portrait busts of Enlightenment intellectuals – a niche that had been largely overlooked until the Rossets made it their own.
Despite their self-taught background and the provincial nature of their production, the Rossets’ work was universally praised for its unmatched resemblance to the figures represented. As Grimm noted:
Resemblance is, however, a subjective quality, and it is unclear how many of the Rossets’ clients had actually met Voltaire in person to judge its accurately. Perhaps it was the workshop’s proximity to the philosophe that lent their likenesses a sense of authenticity, or perhaps (and more likely so) their work aligned with the public’s imagined vision of Voltaire. When Jean-Baptiste Pigalle (1714–1785) completed a study of Voltaire’s head for his ill-fated monument, the public was unconvinced, even though it was modelled from life. Grimm wrote:
The relativity of resemblance becomes apparent in the Rossets’ later work. After Voltaire’s death in 1778 and Joseph Rosset’s in 1786, the workshop adapted to the political and cultural transformations brought by the French Revolution. The Rosset sons fully abandoned saints for revolutionary icons,50 which, fortuitously for them, included Voltaire. In seeking to modernise his image, they drew upon new models, most notably Jean-Antoine Houdon (1741–1828)’s highly influential bust of Voltaire “tête nue” (VI32). The later works of François-Marie (VI54) and Claude-Antoine Rosset clearly reveal Houdon’s influence, even as they retain elements of their father’s original designs. Claude-Antoine’s bust, sold at Christie’s in 2010,51 for instance, preserves Joseph Rosset’s compositional structure (the open shirt, drapery, and slightly turned head), while adopting Houdon’s distinctive facial features.
As Houdon’s bust gained prominence and imprinted itself upon the public imagination, the Rossets’ long proximity to and intimate knowledge of Voltaire lost their significance. Likeness was now judged against the work of a sculptor who had met Voltaire only two or three times.52 The Rossets’ workshop, once central to shaping the philosophe’s image, became merely one of the many reproducers of Houdon’s enduring and canonical prototypes.
“J’ai vu ce buste d'ivoire, mon cher ami, le buste est long et les bras sont coupés. Il y a une draperie à l'antique sur un justaucorps. On a coiffé le visage d'une perruque à trois marteaux, et par dessus la perruque d'un bonnet qui a l’air d'un casque de dragon. Cela est tout à fait dans le grand goût et dans le costume. J’espère que ces pauvres sauvages étant conduits, feront quelque chose de plus honnête.” D13140, Letter from Voltaire to Étienne Noël Damilaville, 27 January 1766.
“Votre Majesté aura le buste de Voltaire non en plâtre, car ils sont effroyables, mais en invoire ou en biscuit de porcelaine de France. On dit que l’on en va faire. Votre Majesté aura aussi le buste de Henri IV, qui sera fort beau.” Letter Marie-Thérèse Geoffrin to Stanisław II August, 7 June 1767, in Charles de Mouÿ (ed.), Correspondance inédite du roi Stanislas-Auguste Poniatowski et de Mme Geoffrin (1764–1777), Paris: Plon et Cie, 1875, pp. 291-295, here p. 293, URL: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k82523/f303.item.
In the end the king chose ivory over porcelain. Both busts, of Voltaire and Henri IV, were completed and dispatched by 20 September: “Le buste de Henri IV est parti avec vos deux voitures. Il y a dans le coffre d’une des voitures un petit buste de Voltaire en ivoire, qui est très-joli. Il revient avec les petits frais à 102 francs. Votre baiser sur le buste de Henri IV ranimera ses cendres. Vous avez beaucoup de rapport avec lui. Je vous dis en passant qu’il était économe. Il est vrai que le bon succès de ce buste m’a fait grand plaisir.” Letter Marie-Thérèse Geoffrin to Stanisław II August, 20 September 1767, in Charles de Mouÿ (ed.), Correspondance inédite du roi Stanislas-Auguste Poniatowski et de Mme Geoffrin (1764–1777), Paris: Plon et Cie, 1875, pp. 308-310, here p. 309, URL: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k82523/f319.item.
The resulting works greatly pleased the king: “J’en viens à présent au petit Voltaire qui est venu avec Henri IV. Figurez-vous combien je me suis amusé à le comparer au grand buste que j’en avais, et j’y ai trouvé, à mon grand contentement, dix ans de plus sur l’ivoire, mais absolument les mêmes traits, le même fond de physionomie, et cela prouve bien la ressemblance de tous deux. C’est un charmant petit bijou. La galerie du Luxembourg est venue tout à point pour relever encore le mérite du buste de Henri IV, puisqu’on en retrouve les traits dans toutes ces estampes qui sont de la plus belle épreuve, malgré la diversité des attitudes. Enfin il n’y a qu’une reine ou vous qui fassiez des présents comme cela ; encore faudrait-il que ce fût une reine qui me connût et m’aimât beaucoup.” Letter from Stanisław II August to Marie-Thérèse Geoffrin, 1 June 1768, in Charles de Mouÿ (ed.), Correspondance inédite du roi Stanislas-Auguste Poniatowski et de Mme Geoffrin (1764–1777), Paris: Plon et Cie, 1875, pp. 337-340, here p. 339, URL: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k82523/f349.item.
“L’ouvrier de Saint-Claude en Franche-Comté, qui a fait avec beaucoup de succès différents bustes et figures de M. de Voltaire en ivoire et en albâtre, a fait cet été un buste en ivoire de cet homme illustre pour M. le prince de Galitzin, ministre plénipotentiaire de Russie à la cour de France. Ce ministre a confié son buste aux artistes qui dirigent la manufacture royale de porcelaines de Sèvres, et ceux-ci l'ont fait exécuter à la manufacture en biscuit. On vend ce morceau soixante livres. Cela vient à propos pour les étrennes. La ressemblance est parfaite. Je préfère cependant le buste qui a servi de modèle au plâtre de M. Simon, il y a environ un an. Le buste qui appartient à M. le prince de Galitzin a, ce me semble, le col court. Il a aussi l'air un peu paysan et grotesque, au lieu que le premier buste imite très-bien le sourire malin du vénérable patriarche, mais sans nuire à la noblesse.” Maurice Tourneux (ed.), Correspondance littéraire, philosophique et critique par Grimm, Diderot, Raynal, Meister, etc., Paris: Garnier frères, 1877–1882, 16 vols., vol. 7, p. 488 [November 1767], URL: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k57813823/f499.item.
“Il faut monsieur avant que Je finisse cette lettre que J'obtienne de vous une grâce, mais il faut que ce soit tout à l'heure, c'est votre statüe ou votre buste qu'on a fait à st Claude; on dit que vous y êtes parfaitement ressemblant. J'ay la plus Extrême impatience de l'avoir. Ne m'alléguez point que Je suis aveugle; on Jouit du plaisir des autres, on voit en quelque sorte par leurs yeux, et puis la gloire monsieur, la gloire, la comptez vous pour rien? Croyez vous que Je ne serais pas Extrêmement flattée que vous décoriez mon appartement? Vous en imposerez à tous ceux qui y entreront, combien de sottises peutêtre m'éviterez vous de dire et d'entendre!” D14201, Letter from Marie Anne de Vichy-Chamrond, marquise Du Deffand to Voltaire, 26 May 1767.
“Il s'est trouvé un sculpteur dans les rochers du mont Jura qui s'est avisé de m'ébaucher de toutes les manières. Si vous m'ordonnez de vous envoyer une de ces figures de Calot, je vous obéirai.” D14099, Letter from Voltaire to Charles Augustin Feriol, comte d’Argental, 11 April 1767.
In the end, instead of the standing statuette, d’Argental recieved an ivory bust: “Le faiseur de buste a mandé qu'il avait envoyé par une diligence qui va de Bezançon à Paris, un petit buste d'ivoire, dont l'original vous adore. Ce n'était pas ce que je lui avais demandé; je ne l'ai point vu; je suis contredit en tout dans les déserts de Scithie.” D14173, Letter from Voltaire to Charles Augustin Feriol, comte d’Argental and Jeanne Grâce Bosc Du Bouchet, comtesse d’Argental, 15 May 1767.
“Le sculpteur de Saint-Claude en Franche-Comté, appelé Rosset, imitateur fidèle et agreste de la nature, qui nous a donné des bustes si ressemblants de M. de Voltaire, est à Paris depuis quelque temps. Il fait des bustes du patriarche de Ferney, de M. de Montesquieu, de Jean-Jacques Rousseau, de M. d’Alembert, et les fait payer depuis deux jusqu’à six et huit louis, suivant qu’on les demande en biscuit de Nancy, en albâtre ou en ivoire. Il a un bas-relief du patriarche conversant avec des laboureurs, qui est très-touchant.” Maurice Tourneux (ed.), Correspondance littéraire, philosophique et critique par Grimm, Diderot, Raynal, Meister, etc., Paris: Garnier frères, 1877–1882, 16 vols., vol. 9, p. 270 [March 1771], URL: https://www.google.co.uk/books/edition/Correspondance_litt%C3%A9raire_philosophique/h05cAAAAMAAJ?hl=ru&gbpv=1&dq=rosset&pg=PA270&printsec=frontcover. No examples of the “biscuit de Nancy” busts mentioned by Grimm are known to survive. Hervé Cabezas suggests that he may have been referring to the production of Nicolas Lelong, who was granted permission to establish a faience workshop in the faubourg Saint-Pierre on 11 January 1774. Hervé Cabezas, “Voltaire, ses portraits, par Maurice-Quentin de La Tour et Joseph Rosset, leur reproduction, au Musée Antoine Lécuyer de Saint-Quentin”, Bulletin de la Société de l’histoire de l’art français(2009), pp. 175-211, here p. 205.
“Il faut pardoner à un homme qui n’est jamais sorti des gorges de Saint-Claude de donner à ses figures l’air un peu paysan. Cela ne l’empêchera pas d’en vendre beaucoup à Paris, à cause de leur extrême verité.” Maurice Tourneux (ed.), Correspondance littéraire, philosophique et critique par Grimm, Diderot, Raynal, Meister, etc., Paris: Garnier frères, 1877–1882, 16 vols., vol. 9, p. 271 [March 1771], URL: https://www.google.co.uk/books/edition/Correspondance_litt%C3%A9raire_philosophique/h05cAAAAMAAJ?hl=ru&gbpv=1&dq=rosset&pg=PA270&printsec=frontcover.
The Marquis de Villette likewise remarked on the “truth” of the Rossets’ statuettes: “Cet air de vérité, cette simplicité touchante qu’il savoit donner à ses Ouvrages, étoient en quelque sorte l’emblème de ses [de Voltaire] mœurs douces et de sa vie patriarchale. En paix avec lui-même il étoit indulgent pour les autres.” Marquis de Villette, “Nécrologie”, Journal de Paris 4 (4 January 1787), pp. 13-14, here p. 13, URL: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.hxk2ly&seq=27.
“J'ai vu le plâtre de Pigalle ; il est fort beau et très-ressemblant ; et cependant il ne ressemble point du tout aux petites figures de l'ouvrier de Saint-Claude, qui ressemblent si bien à l'original. C'est que l'ouvrier de Saint-Claude lui a laissé le caractère malin et satirique qu'il a assez souvent.” Maurice Tourneux (ed.), Correspondance littéraire, philosophique et critique par Grimm, Diderot, Raynal, Meister, etc., Paris: Garnier frères, 1877–1882, 16 vols., vol. 9, p. 89 [July 1770], URL: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k5784273q/f94.item.r=pigalle.