London market as the most advantageous to him.  A large broken phial, containing water and a fleur-de-lis in full bloom, was the only, ornament of his mantle piece.  “Have you no curiosities of any kind—­(said I to him) for sale?” “None—­” replied he; but he had drawings of a few.  “Have the kindness to shew me some of these drawings”—­and forthwith appeared the case and pocket-knife of Diane de Poictiers, drawn from the original by Langlois.  “Where is the original?” observed I, hastily.  “Ha, Sir, you are not singular in your question.  A nobleman of your country was almost losing his wits because he could not purchase it:—­and yet, this original was once to be obtained for twenty louis!” I confess I was glad to obtain the drawing of Langlois for two napoleons.  It is minutely and prettily executed, and apparently with great fidelity.

M. Willemin proceeded to shew me a few more drawings for his national work, telling me precisely what he meant, and what he did not mean, to publish.  His own drawings with a pen are, some of them, of a masterly execution; and although of a less brilliant and less classical style than those of LE NOIR, M. Willemin is still an artist of whom his country will always have reason to be proud.  I bought several drawings of him.[192] One represents the sculptured figures upon the outside of the grand portal of the Cathedral of Chartres. These figures seem to be of the thirteenth century.  The other drawing is of a rich piece of fayence, or of painted and glazed earthenware dish, and about the middle of the sixteenth century:  of which I remember to have seen some very curious specimens at Denon’s.  But nothing can be more singular, and at the same time more beautiful of its kind, than the present specimen—­supposed to be the work of the famous Bernard Palissy.  Paris is full of such treasures.

Of all cities, PARIS is probably that which abounds with rich and curious relics of ancient art.  Its churches, its palaces, its public buildings—­ sometimes grotesque and sometimes magnificent—­furnish alike subjects for admiration and materials for collection.  But the genius of the French does not lie in this pursuit.  From the commencement of the sixteenth century, the ANTIQUITIES OF PARIS might have supplied a critical antiquary with matter for a publication which could have been second only to the immortal work of Piranesi.  But with the exception of Montfaucon, (which I admit to be a most splendid exception) and recently of MILLIN and LE NOIR, France hardly boasts of an indigenous Antiquary.  In our own country, we have good reason to be proud of this department of literature.  The names of Leland, Camden, Cotton, Dugdale, Gibson, Tanner, Gough, and Lysons, place us even upon a level with the antiquarians of Italy.  It was only the other day that M. Willemin was urging me, on my return to England, to take Beauvais in my way, in order to pay a visit to Madame la Comtesse