and great masters, is ten thousand times more destructive of their durability and value than the hand of time. I am the more surprised at the fate of these, because they are under the inspection of men of judgment and experience: but Custom is an imperious dictator, and so we must resign these monuments of departed genius, very soon to follow their authors into the land" where all things are forgotten!"

The founder of this great empire was the first in the country who introduced a love of pictures. His comprehensive mind embraced every object which promised usefulness, honour, or celebrity to his people: and by his example, the succeeding princes have opened their gates to genius; and we see on all sides, arts, manufactures and commerce, flourishing beneath their auspices.

I am told that it was in Holland and France Peter the Great imbibed his taste for painting. He passed many hours in their academies, talking with the artists, and examining with all the attention of a scholar, their various works. His favourite painters were of the Flemish school; particularly those who excelled in naval subjects, of which he was particularly fond. Adam Silo, being not only an artist but an old seaman, delighted him much by the exactness with which he depicted the ocean and its warlike scenes. Many of this man's pictures may be seen in the Summer Palace at St. Petersburgh; and for accuracy in 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 canvases 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. 3!!?、!

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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 drunkenness.

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

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geniuses will lose themselves when they attempt to change the bent of nature, and climb by a different 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 shewn 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.

Ruysdael presents us with a perfect cold and gloomy scene. Its principal object is a waterfall, so excellently executed as to seem literally