other most nearly in things that do not matter.
Frankly, therefore, Albrecht Durer, who was born on May 21, 1471, is a human being from another world, and unless you realise that too, I doubt you can understand him, much less admire him.
For his Art is not beautiful.
Germans have never been able to create anything beautiful in Art: their sense of beauty soars into Song.
But even whilst I am writing these words it occurs to me that they are no longer true, for the German of to-day is no longer the German of yesterday, "standing peaceful on his scientific watch-tower; and to the raging, struggling multitude here and elsewhere solemnly, from hour to hour, with preparatory blast of cow-horn emit his 'Höret ihr Herren und lasst's euch sagen'…" as Carlyle pictures him; he is most certainly not like the Lutheran
