the glare of this wonderfully successful war, | into the old channel; there are enterprises, to come out all the darker when the national all the clues to which were in hands now eyes cease to be dazzled, and become ac- buried in the soil of France; and the aggrecustomed to the unusual glitter. Then the gate of these private failures caused by the truth will come home that the price has war will make up a great national loss. It been heavy, not merely in the family ties will be on the return of the victorious army rent asunder, in the prosperous thousands that Germany will begin to realize what the consigned to indigence, in the mourning cost has been. Thousands will come back and the tears, which, for years, will con- to find their business gone, and hundreds tinue to be shed, but in the marked check of enterprises will languish, or fail, for lack to the material and scientific progress of of the directing brain. In every land the the country. The most intricate of all ma- rush of Germans to the war has left a void chinery is the working of the great commu- in the places made by years of toil, to fill nity we call a nation. Derangements, even up as a sinking ship is filled by the sea, and the most trivial, scatter ruin, and are not those places may know the Germans no easily repaired. Of all derangements war more. Painful as this is to contemplate, it is the worst, not only to the invaded, but is not without its bright side; for it will to the invaders, more especially when or- impress all its bitterness on the most thinkganized as is the army of Germany. The ing of nations, and give them a horror of national life is temporarily stopped; the war. While teaching France what a vanity Germans imagine to go on as before when military glory is, by the very act of acquir again set in motion; but, unless we mis- ing that military glory herself, Germany take, they will not find it so. There are rising will learn that it is only gained by drops manufactures which will never recover the wrung from the heart of a nation that, blow; there are trades diverted which may, next to the vanquished, the field of Victory if the war be prolonged, never get back is the saddest sight to the conqueror.

It was well said by Lord Russell that a proverb was "the experience of many and the wit of one His lordship might have added that the wit of one often adds to the sad experience of the many, for proverbs are too often exaggerated to laws and made the excuses of the most heinous crimes. The Times, for instance, speaking of the atrocities alleged to have been committed by the Bavarians at the village of Bazeilles, says: -"We may as well hope that wars will altogether cease to be made as that they will ever be made with rose-water." We all know that wars are not made with rosewater; nor was chivalry thus manufactured, yet it would not have roasted women and children alive and pushed them back into the fire with bayonets, or tied the hands of women and shot them; and these are the atrocities alleged to have been committed by the Bavarian troops. The allegation may be untrue, but still it has been made, and should either be contradicted or those who perpetrated these barbarities should receive the punishment which is their due. War is and must be horrible, but the rose-water saying should be used with extreme caution. There is a passage in the " Reflector," published in the year 1750, well worth attention at the present moment. "The ancients," says the "Reflector," "made as unjust wars as the moderns, the differences consisting in the manner of conducting them. The ancients bluntly entered upon their unjust wars without pretext, pre

amble, or colour assigned; but the politer mcderns first give notice by manifesto, protest their own innocence, and show the necessity which, against their will, compels them to arms. Nay, we sometimes beg the Divine permission to ravage a country. This appears by the days set apart to implore success to our arms, and the numerous modern declarations of war, wherein the Almighty is called to witness that force is used unwillingly, and that the contending Powers are heartily sorry they are obliged to disturb the public peace. If Alexander the Great had thus called Jupiter to witness how unwilling his pacific temper was to disturb the peace of the world, and declared his hearty sorrow to be forced to take up arms against his brother Darius, what would the philosophers of those times what would Aristotle have thought of such a manifesto?

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From The London Quarterly Review.
ALBERT DURER.*

Nuremberg's hand

Goes through every land,"

Its

rock itself being set in the midst of a dry but fertile plain. It is a town of In the architectural aspect of cities, as in narrow streets and unsymmetrical houses other things," the old order changeth, giv- houses with high-pitched red roofs, and ing place to new," and doubtless, on the overhanging "dormer" windows; a town whole, the change is right and lawful. Bnt breathing of thrift and industry, whose peeven to those who can acknowledge the ad- culiar character Mr. Ruskin has defined as vantage of wide and healthy streets, of in- a" self-restrained, contented, quaint domescreased facilities for locomotion - who ticity." In one respect, indeed, the place recognize that each succeeding generation has changed since the fifteenth century. has the first claim to the accommodation Then it was a busy manufacturing and comwhich the world affords -even to those mercial centre. there is something often inexpressibly sad in the rapid disappearance of the relics of the past. There are cities - Paris in chief -whose topography occupies a place in the history of mankind, and whose memories are harshly disturbed by wholesale demolition, and the substitution of those rectilinear streets that are rather monotonous in an art point of view," as M. Thiers once said. There are others, like Rouen, where the stucco and plate-glass of to-day harmonize ill with the grey tones and quaint diversity of former times; and others again, like Florence, which are suffering from the influx of a new population and the erection of suburban villas. Much of the change is inevitable; some of it, as we said, is right. But still it is impossible to watch without regret the parting of the visible links that bind us to the past, the transformation of the scenes among which our forefathers played their part in life's drama.

was the proud saying of the citizens.
wares were sent to every market in Chris-
tendom. Now its manufactures are quite
unimportant, and commerce flows through
other channels. But, even with this deduc-
tion, there are still enough of the old ele-
ments to enable us to picture to ourselves
the free imperial city of those days, to
people it with its busy burghers and comely
house-wives, to conjure up its paternal gov-
ernment of Rath (or Council) and its many
guilds.

And the account which Albert Diirer him

self has left of his parentage and carlier years comes to us fraught with the spirit that dwelt in those old walls. There is a pathos in its homeliness and simplicity; and, moreover, it throws so gentle a light upon the artist's own mind, and contains so succinct and yet so real a record, that we shall not venture to weaken it, as Mrs. Heaton has done, by a paraphrase. It will be observed that he never mentions his father without some expression of endearment or respect. The "family history," drawn up in 1524, when the writer was fifty-three, runs as

Fortunately, however, in the case of the great German artist of the Reformation, we are not reduced to a painful conjecturing of the outward influences by which he was surrounded. What Nuremberg was when Albert Dürer occupied the house in the Zissel-strasse that still bears his name, it still is in its essential features: -a town pic-follows: turesque and irregular, huddled within its fortifications at the foot of a sand-stone rock which is surmounted by a castle, the

:

"I, Albrecht Dürer, the younger, have sought out, from among my father's papers, these particulars of him, where he came from, and how he lived and died holily. God rest his soul! Amen.

1. The History of the Life of Albrecht Durer of Nurnberg, with a Translation of his Letters and "Albrecht Dürer, the elder, was born in the Journal, and some Account of his Works. By Mrs. kingdom of Hungary.. at a village called

CHARLES HEATON. Macmillan and Co. London. 1970.

Eytas, where his family occupied themselves with 2 Albert Durer; his Life and Works, including oxen and horses. My grandfather was called Autobiographical Papers and Complete Catalogues. Anthony, and he betook himself to the town By WILLIAM B. SCOTT, Author of Half-hour Lec- when still a young man, and learned the goldtures on the History and Practice of the Fine and Ornamental Arts. Longmans, Green, and Co. Lon-smith's art. He married a maiden called Elizabeth, and they had four children, one girl,

don. 1869.

God. He made us know what was agreeable to others as well as to our Maker, so that we might become good neighbours; and every day he talked to us of these things, the love of God, and the conduct of life. For me, I think, he had a particular affection, and, as he saw me diligent in learning, he sent me to school. When I had learned to write and read he took me home again, with the intention of teaching me goldsmith's work. In this I began to do very well. But my love was towards painting, much more than towards the goldsmith's craft. When at last I told my father of my inclination, he was not well pleased, thinking of the time I had been under him as lost if I turned painter. But he let me have my will; and in the year 1486, on St. Andrew's Day, he settled me apprentice with

Catherine, and three sons. The eldest son was
Albrecht, my dear father, who became also a
goldsmith, and was a skilful and truthful man.
... My dear father travelled into Germany,
and also lived long in the Netherlands, knowing
there many great artists. He at last came here
to Nuremberg in 1454, on St. Louis' Day*
(August 25th), the very day on which Philip
Pirkheimer held his wedding, and there was a
great dance under the lime trees. Then my
dear father entered himself with Joseph Haller,
who became my grandfather; for, after a long
service, up to the year 1467, my father having
asked him for his daughter Barbara, then a fair
and handy maiden of fifteen, they were married
eight days before St. Vitus. . My dear pa-
rents had between them all these children that
follow, as I have copied them from the book | Michael Wohlgemuth, to serve him three years.
word for word."

.

66

My father's life was passed in great struggles, and in continuous hard work. With my dear mother bearing so many children, he never could become rich, as he had nothing but what his hands brought him. He had thus many troubles, trials, and adverse circumstances. But yet from every one who knew him he received praise, because he led an honourable Christian life, and was patient, giving all men consideration, and thanking God. He indulged himself in few pleasures, spoke little, shunned society, and was, in truth, a God-fearing man,

In that time God gave me diligence to learn
other young men.
well, spite of the pains I had to suffer from the
And when the three years

were out, my father sent me away. I remained
abroad four years, when he recalled me; and
as I had left just after Easter in 1490, I returned
home in 1494, just after Whitsuntide. Aud
now, when my Wanderjahre was over, Hans
Frey treated with my father, and gave me his
daughter, by name the jungfrau Agnes, with a
dowry of 200 guldens. Our wedding was held
on the Monday before St. Margaret's Day in the
year 1494."

"All these, my dear father's children, are So far speaks Dürer; and in order to søt now dead, some very young, some living a little his narrative in its true frame, and to reallonger, except three; and those who still live, asize' the precise period of history to which long as God pleases, are Andrew, Hans, and belong the twenty-three years that elapsed myself Albert. between his birth and his settling down as an artist in Nuremberg, it is only necessary to remember that the year 1471 carries us back to the reign of our own Edward IV., to the Wars of the Roses, to a date anterior to the murder of the Princes in the Tower; that when Dürer was about twelve, Luther was born; that when he was twenty-two, Columbus brought back to Ferdinand and Isabella the wondrous news of the lands lying beyond the western sea. As regards the arts, never has there been, before or since, a quarter of a century so prolific of genius. Within its span were born Michael Angelo, Giorgione, Titian, Raphael, Sebastian del Piombo, Andrea del Sarto, Correggio, and Holbein, to name but the greatest. In short, these three-and-twenty years coincided with the setting of the Middle Ages, with the dawn of the Renaissance, the seed-time of the Reformation, the com

"My dear father took great pains with his children, bringing them up to the honour of

* This is the date given by Mr. Scott. The Edinburgh Review, for July. 1861, says St. Aloysius. Mrs. Heaton says St. Eligius' Day (25th June), 1455. The

German, as given by Campe, is St. Eloye, and we hold the right translation to be Eligius, or in French Eloi, a saint well known in French nursery rhymes. ↑ There is considerable doubt respecting the exact date meant.