Among the Painters of eminence I must not forget to mention LAURENT.  The French are not very fond of him, and certainly they under-rate his talents.  As a colourist, some of his satins may vie with those of Vanderwerf.  He paints portraits, in small, as well as fancy-subjects.  Of the former, that of his daughter is beautifully executed.  Of the latter, his Young Falconer is a production of the most captivating kind.  But it is his Joan of Arc which runs away with the prize of admiration.  The Government have purchased the house in which that celebrated female was born,[196] and over the door of which an ancient statue of her is to be seen.  Laurent’s portrait is also purchased to be placed over the chimney-piece of the room; and it is intended to supply furniture, of the character which it originally might have possessed.

But if France cannot now boast her Mignard, Rigaud, or the Poussins, she has reason to be proud of her present race of Engravers.  Of these, DESNOYERS evidently takes the lead.  He is just now in Italy, and I shall probably not see him—­having twice called in vain.  I own undisguisedly that I am charmed with all his performances; and especially with his sacred subjects from Raffaelle:—­whom, it is just possible, he may consider to be a somewhat better draftsman than David.  There is hardly any thing but what he adorns by his touch.  He may consider the whole length portrait of Bonaparte to be his chef-d’oeuvre; but his Vierge au Linge, Vierge dite la Belle Jardiniere,—­and perhaps, still finer, that called au Donataire—­are infinitely preferable, to my taste.  The portrait has too much of detail.  It is a combination of little parts; of flowered robes, with a cabinet-like background:  every thing being almost mechanical, and the shield of the ex-Emperor having all the elaborate minutiae of Grignion.  I am heretic enough to prefer the famous whole length of poor Louis XVI, by Bervic after Callet:  there is such a flow of line and gracefulness of expression in this latter performance!  But Desnoyers has uncommon force, as well as sweetness and tenderness, in the management of historical subjects:  although I think that his recent production of Eliezer and Rebecca, from Nicolo Poussin, is unhappy—­as to choice.  His females have great elegance.  His line never flows more freely than in the treatment of his female figures; yet he has nothing of the style of finishing of our STRANGE.  His Francis I, and Marguerite de Valois is, to my eye, one of the most finished, successful, and interesting of his performances.  It is throughout a charming picture, and should hang over half the mantle pieces in the kingdom.  His portrait of Talleyrand is brilliant; but there are parts very much too black.  It will bear no comparison with the glorious portrait of our John Hunter, by Sharp—­from Sir J. Reynolds.  Desnoyers engraves only for himself:  that is to say, he is the sole proprietor of his performances, and report speaks him to be in the receipt of some twenty-five thousand francs per annum.  He deserves all he has gained—­both in fortune and reputation.