About this time an event happened which changed his whole life.  He was shown a beautiful cup of Italian manufacture.  I give in his own words a description of the cup, and the effect the sight of it had on him.  “An earthen cup,” he says, “turned and enameled with so much beauty, that from that time I entered into controversy with my own thoughts, recalling to mind several suggestions that some people had made to me in fun, when I was painting portraits.  Then, seeing that these were falling out of request in the country where I dwelt, and that glass painting was also little patronized, I began to think that if I should discover how to make enamels, I could make earthen vessels and other things very prettily, because God has gifted me with some knowledge of drawing.”

His ambition was fired at once.  A definite purpose formed itself in his mind.  He knew nothing whatever of pottery.  No man in France knew the secret of enameling, which made the Italian cup so beautiful, and Palissy had not the means to go to Italy, where he probably could have learned it.  He resolved to study the nature and properties of clays, and not to rest until he had discovered the secret of the white enamel.  Delightful visions filled his imagination.  He thought within himself that he would become the prince of potters, and would provide his wife and children with all the luxuries that money could buy.  “Thereafter,” he wrote, “regardless of the fact that I had no knowledge of clays, I began to seek for the enamels as a man gropes in the dark.”

Palissy was a young man when he began his search for the enamel; he was past middle life when his labors were finally rewarded.  Groping like a man in the dark, as he himself said, he experimented for years with clays and chemicals, but with small success.  He built with his own hands a furnace at the back of his little cottage in which to carry on his experiments.  At first his enthusiasm inspired his wife and neighbors with the belief that he would succeed in his efforts.  But time went on, and as one experiment after another failed or was only partially successful, one and all lost faith in him.  He had no friend or helper to buoy him up under his many disappointments.  Even his wife reproached him for neglecting his regular work and reducing herself and her children to poverty and want, while he wasted his time and strength in chasing a dream.  His neighbors jeered at him as a madman, one who put his plain duty aside for the gratification of what seemed to their dull minds merely a whim.  His poor wife could hardly be blamed for reproaching him.  She could neither understand nor sympathize with his hopes and fears, while she knew that if he followed his trade, he could at least save his family from want.  It was a trying time for both of them.  But who ever heard tell of an artist, inventor, discoverer, or genius of any kind being deterred by poverty, abuse, ridicule, or obstacles of any kind from the pursuit of an ideal!