He himself loved the "beau ideal" in all things; he loved the poetry of Lord Byron, the painting of Gericault, the music of Rossini, the novels of Walter Scott.

"Every one to his taste, maman," he would say; "but your trey does hang fire terribly." "It will turn up, and you will be rich, and my little Bixiou as well." "Give it all to your grandson," cried Joseph; "at any rate, do what you like best with it." "Hey! when it turns up I shall have enough for everybody.

In the first place, you shall have a fine atelier; you sha'n't deprive yourself of going to the opera so as to pay for your models and your colors.

Do you know, my dear boy, you make me play a pretty shabby part in that picture of yours ?" By way of economy, Joseph had made the Descoings pose for his magnificent painting of a young courtesan taken by an old woman to a Doge of Venice.

This picture, one of the masterpieces of modern painting, was mistaken by Gros himself for a Titian, and it paved the way for the recognition which the younger artists gave to Joseph's talent in the Salon of 1823.
"Those who know you know very well what you are," he answered gayly.
"Why need you trouble yourself about those who don't know you ?" For the last ten years Madame Descoings had taken on the ripe tints of a russet apple at Easter.