of night, and the increasing solemnity of every monument of the
dead--together with the mysterious, and even awful, effect produced by
the colossal crucifix--but yet, perhaps, more than either, the
recollection of the extraordinary talents of the artist, so quietly
sleeping beneath my feet--all conspired to produce a train of
reflections which may be readily conceived, but not so readily
described. If ever a man deserved to be considered as the glory of his
age and nation, Albert Dürer was surely that man. He was, in truth, the
Shakespeare of his art--for the period.

[Footnote A: From "A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour."
Dibdin's tour was made in 1821.]




NUREMBERG TO-DAY[A]

BY CECIL HEADLAM


Nuremberg is set upon a series of small slopes in the midst of an
undulating, sandy plain, some 900 feet above the sea. Here and there on
every side fringes and patches of the mighty forest which once covered
it are still visible; but for the most part the plain is now freckled
with picturesque villages, in which stand old turreted châteaux, with
gabled fronts and latticed windows, or it is clothed with carefully
cultivated crops or veiled from sight by the smoke which rises from the
new-grown forest of factory chimneys.