All the modern copies of ancient gems give us another proof of the decisive authority of beauty in criticisms on works of art. _Natter_ has dared to copy that head of Minerva mentioned above, in the same size and smaller, but fell short. The nose is a hair too big, the chin too flat, and the mouth mean. And this is the case of modern imitators in general. What can we hope then of self-fancied beauties? Conclude not, however, from this, against the possibility of a perfect imitation of antique heads: ’tis enough to say, that it has not yet existed: ’twas probably the fault of the imitators themselves. _Natter_’s treatise on ancient gems is rather shallow; and what he wrought and wrote, even on that single branch of engraving, for which he was chiefly celebrated, has neither the strength nor the ease of genius. To this consciousness of inferiority we owe the scarcity of modern supposititious gems and coins. Any man of taste may, upon comparison, distinguish even the best modern coin from the antique original.—I speak of the best antiques: for as to the lower Imperial coins, where the cheat was easier, the artists have been liberal enough. _Padoano_’s stamps, for copying antique coins, are in the Barberini Collection at Rome, and those of one _Michel_, a Frenchman, and false coiner in taste, at Florence, in that of the late Baron Stosch. The third characteristic of works of art is Execution; or, the sketch being made, the method of finishing. And even here we commend good sense above industry. As in judging of styles, we distinguish the good writer by the clearness, fluency, and nervousness of his diction; so in works of art, we discover the master by the manly strength, freedom, and steadiness of his hand. The august contour, and easiness of mien, in the figures of Christ, St. Peter, and the other apostles, on the right side of the Transfiguration, speak the classic hand of _Raphael_, as strongly as the smooth, anxious nicety of some of _Julio Romano_’s figures, on the left, the more wavering one of the disciple. Never admire either the marble’s radiant polish, or the picture’s glossy surface. For that the journeyman sweated; for this the painter vegetated only. _Bernini_’s Apollo is as polished as HE in the Belvedere; and there is much more labour hid in one of _Trevisani_’s Madonnas, than in that of _Corregio_. Whenever trusty arms and laborious industry prevail, we defy all the ancients. We are not their inferiors even in managing porphyry, though a mob of scriblers, with _Clarencas_ in their rear-guard, deny it. Nor (whatever _Maffei_ thinks[328],) did the ancients know a peculiar method of giving a nicer polish to the figures of their concave gems (_Intagli_.) Our artists polish as nicely: but statues and gems may be detestable, for all their polish, as a face may be ugly, with the softest skin.