Borne by the one-story high--entirely too high--naked Atlas of polished black granite, there rises the side roof of the Hermitage over a terrace of the "millionnaya" (millionaires' street). We enter the dark, high entrance-hall, from which a high marble staircase, between polished walls, leads to a pillared hall, already seen from below. The attendants, in scarlet uniforms, jokingly known at the court as "lobsters," officiously relieve us of our fur coats, and we hasten into the long ground floor, where await us the world-famous antiquities from Kertch, in the Crimea. Unfortunately, there awaits us also a sad disappointment. The high walls are so dark, even in the middle of the gray winter day, that the beauty of the many charming miniatures must be surmised rather than felt. We could see scarcely anything of the great collection of vases. We breathe with relief when we at last enter a hall that has light and air, now richly rewarded for our Tantalus-like sufferings in the preceding rooms. Here glitter the gold laurel and acorn crowns that once adorned proud Greek foreheads; there sparkles the gold-braided border with which the Greek woman trimmed her garments, representing in miniature relief lions' and rams' heads. The gold bracelets and necklaces, ear-rings and brooches tell us that there is nothing new under the sun. Before the birth of Christ there were worn in Chersonesus the same patterns that are now designed anew by diligent artistic craftsmen--nay, even vases and tumblers, the creations of the most modern individualities, had already lain buried under the rubbish of thousands of years. Our attention is drawn to a vase in a separate case, which gives an excellent representation of the progress of a bride's toilet from the bath to its finishing touches ready for the bridegroom's reception. Who knows what scene of domestic happiness was involved in the presentation of this gift thousands of years ago! Sensations which one experiences only in the streets and houses of Pompeii are renewed here while looking at the glass cases with their collections of ornaments and of articles of utility that tell us of the refined pleasures and the exquisite taste of times long gone by. The waves of the Black Sea played about Greek patrician houses where to-day the rugged Cossack rides with the knout in his hand. A great hall shows us finally the Olympian Zeus with the eagles at his feet, also with the soaring Nike in his right hand. Klinger's "Beethoven" reminds us involuntarily of this lofty work without attaining its majesty. A torch-bearer, a mighty caryatid of Praxiteles with a truly wonderful draping of the garments, a Dionysus of the fourth century, an Omphale clad in the attributes of Hercules, sarcophagi with masterly reliefs, a divine Augustus, portrait busts of satyrs, entitle this collection to rank with that of the Vatican, not in numbers, but in the great worth of single works. But our wonder and admiration become greater when we enter