The painted panel depicting the heads of Christ and the Virgin Mary in the Johnson Collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (fig. i) is a very unusual work within the oeuvre of Robert Campin and his workshop.1 Almost a pseudo-diptych, its iconic imagery of the two heads isolated against a golden ground is quite distinctive and apart from the mainstream of early fifteenth-century Netherlandish painting. As well known as the Christ and the Virgin is today, its early history and provenance have remained enigmatic. It was only a few years ago that Albert Châtelet identified the wax seal on the reverse side of the panel as being that of Willem 1 1 Frederick George Lodewijk, King of the Netherlands (1792 -1849). 2 Willem iťs collection was dispersed immediately after his death, but it has not been possible to trace the Campin painting in the upheaval and sales that followed.3 The subsequent wanderings of the Philadelphia panel, until now ignored in the literature, can be partially charted due to Lome Campbell's discovery of notes on the back of Max J. Friedlander's photograph of the painting, now in the files of the Rijksbureau voor Kunsthistorische Documentatie.4 According to Friedlander, the painting had once belonged to the important, late nineteenth-century Cologne firm of the Bourgeois brothers, art dealers whose company was disbanded in the opening years of this century.5 The painting then was owned by the English art historian and dealer, R. Langton Douglas (18641951).6 Douglas was accustomed to consulting Friedlander on his purchases of Northern art. Friedlander, in turn, introduced Douglas and the Philadelphia lawyer and collector John G. Johnson while the latter was in London in 1907. Johnson bought his first painting from Douglas in New York later that same year, and this purchase was followed by a great many others. According to Friedlander, Johnson bought the painting in 1910. The purchase may have been made when Johnson visited Douglas in the British capital in the summer of that year, and this would help explain why there is no correspondence between the two men about its sale.7 In this light, the previous obscurity of the painting throughout most of the nineteenth century and its sudden emergence at the beginning of this century make sense. Equally important, if not more so, is the early provenance of this painting. Until now Campin's panel has not been linked with any documents of commission, nor has its original venue been identified. A chance discovery has revealed that in the late eighteenth century this work was in Paris, in the incredibly rich art collection formed by Paignon Dijonval (1708-1792). Dijonval is primarily remembered for his enormous and important holdings of drawings and engravings, but he also had a choice collection of paintings.8 These were from the Flemish, Dutch, and French schools, but none were by Italian masters. Most were from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, a few were more contemporary but, most surprisingly,