time the formation of a great national gallery of pictures and statues
at Paris was considered as an object of the first importance; and every
victorious general was expected to bring trophies of this kind in his
train. Whether the fine arts themselves are likely to be improved in
consequence of the accumulation in any one place of such vast treasures
as the Louvre were long exhibited, there has been, and will no doubt
continue to be, much controversy. It is certain that the arts of France
derived no solid advantage from Napoleon's museum. The collection was a
mighty heap of incense for the benefit of the national vanity; and the
hand which brought it together was preparing the means of inflicting on
that vanity one of the most intolerable of wounds, in its ultimate
dispersion.

The Duke of Modena would fain have redeemed the famous St. Jerome, of
Correggio, at the price of £80,000; and Buonaparte's lieutenants urged
him to accept the money. "No," said he, "the duke's two millions of
francs would soon be spent; but his Correggio will remain for ages to
adorn Paris, and inspire the arts of France." The prophecy was not
inspired. Of one thing there can be no doubt; namely, that the
abstraction of these precious monuments of art from the Italian
collections was deeply and permanently resented by the Italian people.
This sacrilege, as those enthusiastic and intelligent lovers of all the
elegant arts considered it, turned back many a half-made convert from
the principles of the French Revolution.

Buonaparte remained but five days in Milan; the citadel of that place
still held out against him; but he left a detachment to blockade it, and
proceeded himself in pursuit of Beaulieu. The Austrian had now planted
the remains of his army behind the Mincio, having his left on the great
and strong city of Mantua, which has been termed "the citadel of Italy,"