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teaching the lesson which ought to be learned from this present
history； drawn as it is from the most commonplace interests of life；
but whose bearings are； it may be； only the more widespread。 The view
from the windows into the student dens； the tumult of the rapins
below； the necessity of looking up at the sky to escape the miserable
sights of the damp angle of the street； the presence of that portrait；
full of soul and grandeur despite the workmanship of an amateur
painter； the sight of the rich colors； now old and harmonious； in that
calm and placid home； the preference of the mother for her eldest
child； her opposition to the tastes of the younger； in short； the
whole body of facts and circumstances which make the preamble of this
history are perhaps the generating causes to which we owe Joseph
Bridau； one of the greatest painters of the modern French school of
art。
Philippe； the elder of the two sons； was strikingly like his mother。
Though a blond lad； with blue eyes； he had the daring look which is
readily taken for intrepidity and courage。 Old Claparon； who entered
the ministry of the interior at the same time as Bridau； and was one
of the faithful friends who played whist every night with the two
widows； used to say of Philippe two or three times a month； giving him
a tap on the cheek； 〃Here's a young rascal who'll stand to his guns！〃
The boy； thus stimulated； naturally and out of bravado； assumed a
resolute manner。 That turn once given to his character； he became very
adroit at all bodily exercises； his fights at the Lyceum taught him
the endurance and contempt for pain which lays the foundation of
military valor。 He also acquired； very naturally； a distaste for
study； public education being unable to solve the difficult problem of
developing 〃pari passu〃 the body and the mind。
Agathe believed that the purely physical resemblance which Philippe
bore to her carried with it a moral likeness； and she confidently
expected him to show at a future day her own delicacy of feeling；
heightened by the vigor of manhood。 Philippe was fifteen years old
when his mother moved into the melancholy appartement in the rue
Mazarin； and the winning ways of a lad of that age went far to confirm
the maternal beliefs。 Joseph； three years younger； was like his
father； but only on the defective side。 In the first place； his thick
black hair was always in disorder； no matter what pains were taken
with it； while Philippe's； notwithstanding his vivacity； was
invariably neat。 Then； by some mysterious fatality； Joseph could not
keep his clothes clean； dress him in new clothes； and he immediately
made them look like old ones。 The elder； on the other hand； took care
of his things out of mere vanity。 Unconsciously； the mother acquired a
habit of scolding Joseph and holding up his brother as an example to
him。 Agathe did not treat the two children alike； when she went to
fetch them from school； the thought in her mind as to Joseph always
was； 〃What sort of state shall I find him in？〃 These trifles drove her
heart into the gulf of maternal preference。
No one among the very ordinary persons who made the society of the two
widowsneither old Du Bruel nor old Claparon； nor Desroches the
father； nor even the Abbe Loraux； Agathe's confessornoticed Joseph's
faculty for observation。 Absorbed in the line of his own tastes； the
future colorist paid no attention to anything that concerned himself。
During his childhood this disposition was so like torpor that his
father grew uneasy about him。 The remarkable size of the head and the
width of the brow roused a fear that the child might be liable to
water on the brain。 His distressful face； whose originality was
thought ugliness by those who had no eye for the moral value of a
countenance； wore rather a sullen expression during his childhood。 The
features； which developed later in life； were pinched； and the close
attention the child paid to what went on about him still further
contracted them。 Philippe flattered his mother's vanity； but Joseph
won no compliments。 Philippe sparkled with the clever sayings and
lively answers that lead parents to believe their boys will turn out
remarkable men； Joseph was taciturn； and a dreamer。 The mother hoped
great things of Philippe； and expected nothing of Joseph。
Joseph's predilection for art was developed by a very commonplace
incident。 During the Easter holidays of 1812； as he was coming home
from a walk in the Tuileries with his brother and Madame Descoings； he
saw a pupil drawing a caricature of some professor on the wall of the
Institute； and stopped short with admiration at the charcoal sketch；
which was full of satire。 The next day the child stood at the window
watching the pupils as they entered the building by the door on the
rue Mazarin； then he ran downstairs and slipped furtively into the
long courtyard of the Institute； full of statues； busts； half…finished
marbles； plasters； and baked clays； at all of which he gazed
feverishly； for his instinct was awakened； and his vocation stirred
within him。 He entered a room on the ground…floor； the door of which
was half open； and there he saw a dozen young men drawing from a
statue； who at once began to make fun of him。
〃Hi！ little one；〃 cried the first to see him； taking the crumbs of his
bread and scattering them at the child。
〃Whose child is he？〃
〃Goodness； how ugly！〃
For a quarter of an hour Joseph stood still and bore the brunt of much
teasing in the atelier of the great sculptor； Chaudet。 But after
laughing at him for a time； the pupils were struck with his
persistency and with the expression of his face。 They asked him what
he wanted。 Joseph answered that he wished to know how to draw；
thereupon they all encouraged him。 Won by such friendliness； the child
told them he was Madame Bridau's son。
〃Oh！ if you are Madame Bridau's son；〃 they cried； from all parts of
the room； 〃you will certainly be a great man。 Long live the son of
Madame Bridau！ Is your mother pretty？ If you are a sample of her； she
must be stylish！〃
〃Ha！ you want to be an artist？〃 said the eldest pupil； coming up to
Joseph； 〃but don't you know that that requires pluck； you'll have to
bear all sorts of trials；yes； trials；enough to break your legs and
arms and soul and body。 All the fellows you see here have gone through
regular ordeals。 That one； for instance； he went seven days without
eating！ Let me see； now； if you can be an artist。〃
He took one of the child's arms and stretched it straight up in the
air； then he placed the other arm as if Joseph were in the act of
delivering a blow with his fist。
〃Now that's what we call the telegraph trial；〃 said the pupil。 〃If you
can stand like that； without lowering or changing the position of your
arms for a quarter of an hour； then you'll have proved yourself a
plucky one。〃
〃Courage； little one； courage！〃 cried all the rest。 〃You must suffer
if you