Following his own idea for disposing of the illustrious dead, his body was made into an ‘autoicon’, and is kept in  a little glass-fronted cupboard most of the time. He has beady eyes and rests on his walking stick, but I was told that he doesn’t usually vote. (However, he will vote in favor of the motion if there is a tie.) Unfortunately his ‘autoicon’ idea didn’t catch on, or there would be more like him. Equally unfortunately, his idea of the ‘panopticon’ – a prions-cum-surveillance system – did catch on. Both Big Brother and little Jeremy are still with us today.

I remember seeing the Archbishop when I was a child. I was about nine, he was nearly five hundred years old. His name was Simon of Sudbury, and his skull – tautly covered with yellow shriveled skin – was kept in a box in the vestry in a church in Sudbury, Essex.

Some of them were never all here anyway; there are a couple of heart burials, with their simple monuments of an urn on a pillar. (Earlier, crusading kings had their guts scooped out, and buried where they fell, so that their bodies could be dried out and brought back to France; later, the science of embalming appears to have improved, so that Nelson’s body was pickled in rum and brought back from Trafalgar to St Paul’s in a barrel.) Even so, Saint-Denis is perhaps the most perfect royal burial place in Europe. You wouldn’t think so when you arrive in Saint-Denis, an industrial suburb of Paris; but inside the church, only a dim light penetrates through the many pillars, and the atmosphere is heavy. Even after a thorough restoration, Abbot Suger’s romanesque masterpiece remains impressive, with its chevet for the first time bringing light – symbol of the divine presence – into the church through the side chapel windows.  The most striking monuments are those of the Renaissance kings; the living men kneel above, their dead bodies are stretched out below, to show the living what they too will be. In the vault below, Carolingian kings mingle their dust with the last of the monarch, Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette.

Along with great treasure-houses like the Louvre and Prada, and the many fine regional, historical, and special interest museums, Europe abounds in sites devoted to particular individuals.

Jules Verne Museum, 3 rue de l’Hermitage, F-44100 Nantes, Loire-Atlantique, France; open daily except Tuesdays and public holidays; limited hours Sunday.

Open Tuesday-Sunday; closed Mondays; some collections closed by rotation; admission.

One may justly describe all of Rome as a great museum, with every side street leading to another exhibit (and some streets exhibits in themselves). Of what is indoors or under glass, however, the treasures accumulated by the See of Rome are the most varied and spectacular. Located in nearly 5 miles of rooms and halls situated to the right of St. Peter’s, the term "Museo Vaticano" takes in seven separate museums—the Picture Gallery, Egyptian Museum, Museo Pio-Clementio (ancient sculpture), Museo Chiaramonti (Greek & Roman art), Etruscan Museum, and the Museums of Sacred and of Secular Art—plus the Vatican Library, Borgia Apartments, Map Gallery, Sistine Chapel, and Raphael Rooms.

Ancient sculpture is the real standout—it is the largest collection in the world—with a dazzling array of pieces from the pinnacles of Greek and Roman civilizations. Whereas in most of Europe one becomes accustomed to the phrase "Roman copy of a Greek original"—here one finds the Greek originals, more so than anywhere except Greece itself. Paintings are less comprehensive than they might have been but for the light fingers of Napoleon; a significant part of the Louvre’s gain under the Empire was Rome’s loss. Many items were returned after the 1815 Congress of Vienna, however, and there are a large number of important works here. For obvious reasons there is more and better-preserved early and medieval Christian art than anywhere else; not just the Raphaels, Titians, and other Italian masters one would expect, but also including remarkable pieces from the early iconic traditions of Serbia, Greece, and Russia. The Egyptian collection is not as deep as others in Europe (notably Berlin’s Pergamon and the Louvre) but contains some exceptional items. The Map Gallery and Library should not be missed, though each displays only a small fraction of the Papacy’s vast holdings. Open Monday-Saturday and last Sunday of each month; limited hours Saturday and October-June; admission except Sundays.

If the British Museum sits at one end of the table, the
mighty Louvre gazes back from the other. French acquisitions spanning more than 1,000 years—including the stockpiles of such acquisitive types as Louis XIV and Napoleon—fill three sprawling, multi-story wings with some 300,000 objets d’art. Any one of the Louvre’s sixteen topical sections (Renaissance Sculptures, Medieval Sculptures, Greek and Roman Sculptures, Oriental Antiquities, and Spanish, Italian, Flemish, Dutch, and French painting—plus several more) would make a world-class museum in itself. Gathered into one site they form an exhaustive (and exhausting!) tour, little short of the history of human creativity.

The key to enjoying the Louvre is accepting that you will not see it all, at least not in one trip (or several). Then, decide what you want to see most and take time to savor it. There are, of course, many universally famed works here and you will repeatedly experience that odd mixture of recognition and vague disbelief—rather like meeting a famous person—that comes when you find yourself in front of such works as the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, or The Gleaners.One should, however, avoid the trap of spending the day in a mad rush to check off one "celebrity" after another. Instead, leave the selection to chance and come upon them unexpectedly (to the extent the crowds allow it) in the course of discovering unknown treasures for yourself: the towering, dramatic Melpom�ne; Poussin‘s eerie Shepherds of Arcadia; the engaging ensembles of Jan Steen‘s Dutch families, as human and humorous as your own. But come early: the Louvre is said to draw more visitors each day than any other attraction in Europe. They have a parking lot the size of a football field just for the tour buses, and the line snaking into Pei’s glass-pyramid entrance can run two hours long by mid-day.

Unless you are desperately short of cash, forego the free Sundays; that’s when tour buses come in force, along with seemingly endless hordes of sweet, adorable (shut UP!) schoolchildren. Open daily, with some galleries closed by rotation; admission except Sundays.