Merritt avoided the horror of traumatized Victorian prudes with Love Locked Out.

Although Queen Victoria herself was a fan of nude artworks, gifting personal favorites to her husband, Merritt’s London audience was not ready to accept this birthday suit. By now well aware of her viewers’ delicate sensibilities, Merritt painted a naked child instead of an adult. Her previous work, Eve Overcome with Remorse, had received criticism: the painting had entirely too much nude torso for 1885. Sure, she’s pictured in the Garden of Eden, but couldn't Eve have scrounged up a turtleneck and hoop skirt?

Merritt’s piece is a memorial honoring her husband Henry, who died three months into their marriage. Cupid stands outside a mausoleum, hoping for a reunion with someone he’s lost on the other side. Merritt put her heart into the piece, and her efforts paid off: Love Locked Out was bought by the Tate Gallery, their first acquisition from a female artist. Perhaps they’d realized artists use their brushes to paint, not their genitalia.

Merritt’s influence spread— unsurprising, considering she studied in Philadelphia, Dresden, and London. There’s even a probable reference to Love Locked Out in Peter Rabbit, an image of the poor bunny stretched against the door to Mr. McGregor’s farm. There’s nothing like a nod from Beatrix Potter to prove you’ve made your mark!

The 1890 Daily Telegraph was less than impressed by this representation of Cupid, labeling the youth a “disrobed urchin” and “truant from a board school.” The harsh critics were particularly incensed by his apparently hideous head of hair. A female artist put down for a hairdo— how very Victorian. One can only imagine the uproar had Merritt painted an undone braid or an oily scalp. Who’s to say that Cupid himself never had a case of dandruff or came home with lice?