My Second Sermon John Everett Millais (1829-1896)

The composition presents a young child seated on what appears to be a window ledge or bench, enveloped in a moment of quiet repose. The figure is dressed in a vibrant red coat over a darker dress, with stockings and small boots completing the attire. A dark ribbon secures their hair, partially obscuring the forehead. Their eyes are closed, suggesting sleepiness or deep contemplation.
The child’s posture conveys a sense of vulnerability and trust. They lean heavily against a large, shaggy dog, which rests its head on the childs lap. The animal’s fur is rendered with considerable detail, creating a tactile quality that invites empathy. A folded piece of white fabric lies near the child, possibly a handkerchief or a small cloth.
The background consists of a muted green wall, punctuated by what seems to be a dark curtain or drape on the right side. The limited depth of field focuses attention squarely on the central figures – the child and the dog. A small stool sits at the base of the ledge, adding another element to the scenes domesticity.
The painting evokes themes of innocence, companionship, and perhaps a gentle critique of religious formality. The title suggests a narrative – a second sermon – implying an earlier, potentially more rigid or conventional experience that has been superseded by this simpler, more intimate moment. The dog, traditionally associated with loyalty and comfort, acts as a surrogate for spiritual guidance, offering solace and unconditional acceptance in place of formal instruction.
The subdued color palette, dominated by red, green, and brown, contributes to the overall mood of quiet introspection. The artist’s brushwork is loose and expressive, lending a sense of immediacy and emotional honesty to the scene. Its possible to interpret this as a commentary on the value of genuine connection over prescribed doctrine – a preference for heartfelt understanding over rote learning.