Cranach, of a man with a bag of money tempting a young woman:  full of character, and singularly striking.  This room—­or the one adjoining, I have forgotten which—­contains M. Denon’s collection of the prints of MARC ANTONIO or of REMBRANDT—­or of both; a collection, which is said to be unequalled.[174] Whether the former be more precious than the latter, or whether both be superior to what our British Museum contains of the same masters, is a point which has not yet been fairly determined.  But I asked, one morning, for a glimpse of the Rembrandts.  We were alone; just after we had breakfasted together.  M. Denon commenced by shewing me two different states of the Coach Landscape, and the two great Coppinols with white grounds—­each varying somewhat!!!  “Enough,” cried I—­holding up both hands,—­“you beat all in England and all in France!”

From hence you pass into a fourth room, which is M. Denon’s bed-chamber.  About the fire-place are numerous little choice bits of the graphic art.  Two small Watteaus, in particular, are perfectly delicious;[175] as well as a very small Sebastian Bourdon; of a holy family.  In a corner, too much darkened, is a fine small portrait of Parmegiano in profile:  full of expression—­and, to the best of my recollection, never engraved.  These are, I think, the chief bijoux in the bed-room; except that I might notice some ancient little bronzes, and an enamel or two by Petitot.  You now retrace your steps, and go into a fifth room, which has many fair good pictures, of a comparatively modern date; and where, if I mistake not, you observe at least one portrait in oil of the master of the premises.  This therefore gives us “Denon the Seventh!” It is here that the master chiefly sits:  and he calls it his workshop.  His drawers and port-folios are, I think, filled with prints and old-drawings:  innumerable, and in the estimation of the owner, invaluable.  You yet continue your route into a further room,—­ somewhat bereft of furniture, or en dishabille.  Here, among other prints, I was struck with seeing that of the late Mr. Pitt; from Edridge’s small whole length.  The story attached to it is rather singular.  It was found on board the first naval prize (a frigate) which the French made during the late war; and the Captain begged Monsieur Denon’s acceptance of it.  Here were also, if I remember rightly, prints of Mr. Fox and Lord Nelson; but, as objects of art, I could not help looking with admiration—­approaching to incredulity—­upon three or four large prints, after Rembrandt and Paul Potter, which M. Denon assured me were the production of his burin!  I could scarcely believe it.  Whatever be the merits of Denon, as a critical judge of art, ancient or modern, there is no person, not wholly blinded by prejudice, or soured by national antipathies, that can deny him great zeal, great talent, and great feeling ... in the several pursuits of art, of which his apartments furnish such splendid evidence.