of the art which gives to modern engravers, more especially in landscape, so great an advantage over the original inventor. Looking impartially at the various works of Durer, and considering the period and the country in which he lived, few, I think, will venture to deny that he was one of the greatest artists of his age. The best proof indeed of the solidity of his fame is afforded by the esteem in which his works have been held for three centuries by nearly all persons who have had opportunities of seeing them, except such as have, upon narrow principles, formed an exclusive theory with respect to excellence in art. With such authorities nothing can be beautiful or interesting that is not _grand_; every country parish church should be built in the style of a Grecian temple; our woods should grow nothing but oaks; a country gentleman’s dove-cot should be a fac-simile of the lantern of Demosthenes; the sign of the Angel at a country inn should be painted by a Guido; and a picture representing the meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science should be in the style of Raffaele’s School of Athens. [Footnote V-57: Those three engravings are respectively numbered 1, 60, and 67 in Bartsch’s list of Durer’s works in his Peintre-Graveur, tom. vii. The Adam and Eve is nine inches and three-fourths high by seven inches and a half wide,--date 1504; St. Jerome, nine inches and five-eighths high by seven inches and three-eighths wide,--date 1514; Melancolia, nine inches and three-eighths high by seven inches and one fourth wide,--date 1514.]