the shipping, and spirit in the sea-fights, I never saw him excelled. It was at the palace of Peterhoff that Peter framed the first general gallery of pictures that was known in Russia. The paintings were chosen and arranged by one Xsel, an artist who had followed the emperor from Holland, and who died painter to the empire, about sixty years ago. He was more celebrated for judgment than for genius, being little more than a copier of still life; but though as an artist he was insignificant, as a candid and liberal connoisseur he was of the first respectability.

From this great monarch's example has arisen the present admirable collection at the Hermitage, which is even better arranged than that of Peterhoff, having a separate room, as far as circumstances will allow, for the works of each particular master. One disadvantage attends this plan, if the superintendants are more attentive to uniformity than to truth: the names of artists are put on canvass which they never saw, much less ever touched. In the Salvator Rosa chamber, there are two exquisite pictures of his; the Prodigal Son, so well known in England, and a small sketch of Banditti, in his very best manner. Others are inferior; but some, too bad to be looked at, whose bastard faces bear his name without a line of his lineaments. Such prostitution of the character of a great artist, is either a shameful mistake, or a shameless imposition; and for taste and honour's sake should be rectified accordingly.

I pass many hours in culling the flowers from this wilderness of sweets; and I see enough to convince me that were it weeded with judgment, a collection might then be drawn together which would be unrivalled in any nation. With my pencil I noted on the spot my remarks on a few of the best pictures; and as you love the art sufficiently well to enjoy even a description of its specimens, I transcribe my little catalogue beneath.

The paintings most prominent in merit, were purchased by the late empress Catherine; and the most considerable of these is the Houghton Collection. In proportion as we admire the taste that dictated her munificence, we must shrink from the stigma it casts upon our countrymen, who once possessing such a treasure, would allow it to pass to a foreign land. However,

like the picture of some lamented hero for ever lost to his country, we have the portraits of this admirable gallery to remind us of what was once ours, and of our unavailing regrets. The taste of the late alderman Boydell has preserved copies of these paintings in many excellent drawings.

Most of the originals have undergone the destructive process of cleansing and varnishing; but some few have happily escaped, amongst which is the Prodigal Son of Salvator Rosa; a picture unrivalled in expression, truth, and depth of tone.

The Forge of Vulcan, by Lucco Giordano, was not so fortunate. But an exquisite piece of harmonious colouring it must originally have been. Parts of the picture are admirable; in others the cleaner is apparent. Some of the figures at the anvil, have lost the mellow tint so beautiful in their companions; leaving a raw, crude and bright pink hue, which destroys all the pleasure produced in regarding the more perfect parts.

The truly renowned picture of the Holy Doctors of the Church, by Guido, so finely engraved by Mr. Sharp, is also, like that of Salvator Rosa, in statu quo; and a most divine work it is. Perhaps its being situated by the side of so many florid and bustling productions, may to some eyes give it too cold and clayey a hue; however I must say that with me this ⚫ sobriety much increases its sublimity. In the same saloon are one or two delightful Murillios, particularly a Flight into Egypt.

The room appropriated to Teniers, contains some of his very best pictures; amongst which are a Country Wake (a subject which he always treated so truly), the inside of a kitchen, larder, &c. replete with every article of culinary use, as well as vegetables, meat, and game of all sorts, with a portrait of the master of the house and (I suppose) his purveyor. Many inimitable little pictures of cabarets, display his usual skill in pourtraying his countrymen in all states of hilarity and drunk

enness.

Bergham's pencil is not less brilliant. Yet there is one picture attributed to him, in execution below his merits, or in subject beyond his powers. If it be really his, how does it prove that even the finest geniuses will lose themselves when

they attempt to change the bent of nature, and climb by a dif ferent path to the heights of fame! The work that gave rise to this remark, is a very large one of Europa and Jupiter. But alas, the beloved of Jove possesses little charms to attract mortals! She is fat and ugly; and her attendants, not to outshine their mistress, are of the same clumsy and disgusting mould. Even the bull is an inferior animal. In short the artist has failed throughout. The design, the colouring, the composition, all are bad. You cannot discover one merit; no trace of Bergham's accustomed bewitching touch, not a tone in the least clear, not a glimpse of his usual and unequalled manner of treating nature.

Both the Wouvermans have given to this collection the most exquisite specimens of their art. Philip's Skirmish near a Church is inexpressibly brilliant. And a Dutch Sport, in which a boor is riding at a cat suspended in the air, is, though a barbarous subject, finished with the purest taste. The hue is of a most delightful silvery tone; and such is the fascination of the whole, that it is difficult to withdraw from the contemplation of so beautiful and perfect a work. Near to one of the windows is a small Deer Hunt, wherein a hunter, habited in red and mounted on a white horse, is touched with a force that is quite astonishing, and in a freer manner than is usually the style of Philip Wouverman. I ascribe its unsullied freshness to its having escaped the withering effects of varnish and scrubbing.

A saloon, containing several Rembrandts of a large size, forms a glorious coup-d'œil: and probably they appear to more advantage, having as a contrast, some infamous works of Ferdinand Bols; to which are ignorantly affixed marks, with the name of the great master of the Dutch school. A large picture by Rembrandt, of the Prodigal Son's return, is in his usual style, rich but ungraceful; full of character, but not of the epic mould, a burgomaster's head stares you in the face; and you stare at it in concert, with surprise, conviction, and astonishment; certain of its unequalled merit, and scarcely believing it to be a work of art.

A gallery, which is very long, is filled with pictures from

various masters; namely, Claude Lorraine, Nicolas and Gasper Poussin, Vernet, Le Brun, Le Sueur, and many others.

Claude has productions here which are nature's self. He seems to have gained the summit of his art. But if, while we contemplate him with feelings bursting into enthusiasm, our eyes stray for a moment around, the admiration is divided; and we see other artists, in their different paths, keep even with the wheels of his chariot, as they mount the hill of fame.

The genius of the Flemish school is shown in many excellent works of Rubens, Snyders and Vandyke. Several portraits of our ancestors, from the pencil of the latter, decorate the walls of the Hermitage. We here see the daughters of Charles I.; that monarch himself, in a suit of armour; Sir Thomas Wharton, besides many of the English nobility and statesmen. A St. Sebastian and the Incredulity of St. Thomas, are noble pictures from the same hand.

Rubens displays his old favourite subjects of Silenus, Tigers, and squabby Nymphs: a most abominable selection: and when we view the admirable richness and brightness of his colouring, how do we lament that so much talent should be thrown away upon the most disgusting objects in and out of nature.

Ruysdale presents us with a perfect cold and gloomy scene. Its principal object is a waterfall, so excellently executed as to seem literally tumbling before you with all the effects of a cataract. It is not sublime; but it is unaffected, and true to its subject. The longer you observe its beauties, the more is your attention riveted.

On the opposite side, in the same apartment, is a masterpiece of Potter. A wood, with a man on horseback issuing from it. The sun shines through the trees and gleams partially on a rutty road. This is inimitable; and with the picture last mentioned, forms two of the best landscapes of this character, in the Hermitage. What David Teniers is in humble life, to the sublime scenes of Poussin and Salvator Rosa; so are Ruysdale and Potter to Claude Lorraine. One, is nature in her common dress; the other, when she puts on her epic garb. Both styles suit the genius of their respective masters.

Countless specimens of other artists are dispersed all over the palace; but passing by many very indifferent, and more that disgrace the walls, I have selected those only which are deemed worthy of the august patroness who formed the collection. Leaving you to con their merits, I shall now rest my pen, and bid you adieu!

LETTER VI.

St. Petersburgh, September, 1805. BEING still on the Muses' highway, allow me to lead you across the Neva to one of its proudest ornaments, the Institution for the encouragement of the Arts! The first idea of such a foundation was projected by the father of his country, the immortal Peter the great. The empress Elizabeth, in the year 1758, made many advances towards the fulfilment of his plan; but before the preliminary circumstances could be arranged, death put a period to her reign. The honour now fell to the lot of her successors: and the present extensive scale of the institution was designed and executed by the patriotic mind of the great Catherine. In 1764, it was finished and fully endowed; receiving from its foundress, proper laws to regulate the whole.

The establishment consists of a president, three rectors, two assistant rectors; six professors of painting, sculpture, and architecture, with each an assistant, and one perpetual secretary. One inspector of the college, with his assistant; an adequate number of professors of perspective, anatomy, geography, history, mythology, and iconology: and a number, unlimited, of academicians; admitting artists of all nations to that honour.

This institution is formed to watch and assist the bent of genius from its infancy; and yet, out of the number which are taken in here, very few come forth good artists. The fault then must lie in the minds of the pupils, which seem altogether barren of that talent which particularly points towards painting.