Protogenes was noted for his minute and scrupulous care in the preparation of his works. He carried this peculiarity to such excess that Apelles was moved to make the following comparison: "Protogenes equals or surpasses me in all things but one--the knowing when to remove his hand from a painting." Protogenes survived Apelles, and became a very eminent painter. It is stated that when Demetrius besieged Rhodes, and could have reduced it by setting fire to a quarter of the city that contained one of the finest productions of Protogenes, he refused to do so lest he should destroy the masterpiece of art. It is to this incident that the poet THOMSON undoubtedly refers when he says, E'en such enchantment then thy pencil poured, That cruel-thoughted War the impatient torch Dashed to the ground; and, rather than destroy The patriot picture, let the city 'scape. From the time of Alexander the art of painting rapidly deteriorated, and at the period of the Roman conquest it had scarcely an existence. Grecian art, like Grecian liberty, had lost its spirit and vitality, and the spoliation of public buildings and galleries, to adorn the porticos and temples of Rome, hastened its extinction. We have now reached the close of the history of ancient Greece. But Hellas still lives in her thousand hallowed associations of historic interest, and in the numerous ruins of ancient art and splendor which cover her soil-- recalling a glorious Past, upon which we love to dwell as upon the memory of departed friends or the scenes of a happy childhood-- "sweet, but mournful to the soul." And although the ashes of her generals, her poets, her scholars, and her artists are scattered from their urns, and her statuary and her temples are mutilated and discolored ruins, ancient Greece lives also in the song, the art, and the research of modern times. In contemplating the influence of her genius, the mind is naturally fixed upon the chief repository of her taste and talent--Athens, "the eye of Greece"--from which have sprung "all the strength, the wisdom, the freedom, and the glory of the western world." Within the surface of Time's fleeting river Its wrinkled image lies, as then it lay, Immovably unquiet, and forever It trembles, but it cannot pass away! The voices of thy bards and sages thunder With an earth-awaking blast Through the caverns of the past; Religion veils her eyes; Oppression shrinks aghast; A wingèd sound of joy, and love, and wonder, Which soars where Expectation never flew, Rending the veil of space and time asunder! One ocean feeds the clouds, and streams, and dew; One sun illumines heaven; one spirit vast With life and love makes chaos ever new, As Athens doth the world with her delight renew. --SHELLEY.