drew a whole city as a background for a picture. He illustrated with         
relish and humor the life and doings of country folk, He loved the           
Germans, painted their enormous heads and rubicund features without          
protest, and introduced them into the unlikeliest environments, always       
richly robed like prosperous burghers, and wrapped and muffled, even         
in Rome or Palestine, against the German cold. His drawings are an           
ethnography of Nuremberg. His chief patrons were its merchant princes,       
whom he rescued from death with his portraits, but he received               
commissions also from dukes and Imperial electors, and at last from          
Maximilian himself, As Titian loved best to portray the nobility and         
royalty, Durer was most at home in the middle class, and his woodcut         
of the Emperor made him look like what Louis XII had called him- the         
"burgomaster of Augsburg." Once only Durer achieved nobility in a            
portrait- an imaginary rendering of Charlemagne.                             
    The thirty-six portraits are his most readily enjoyable works, for         
they are simple, sensual, earthy, swelling with character. Behold            
Hieronymus Holzschuher, the Nuremberg senator: a powerful head,              
stern face, thinning hair on a massive forehead, a beard trimmed to          
immaculate symmetry, sharp eyes as if watching politicians, yet with         
the beginning of a twinkle in them; here is a man with a good heart,         
good humor, good appetite. Or consider Durer's dearest friend,               
Willibald Pirkheimer: the head of a bull concealing the soul of a            
scholar, and suggesting the gastric needs of Gargantua. And who              
would guess, behind the creased and flattened features of the                
immense Frederick the Wise of Saxony, the Elector who defied a pope to             
protect Luther? Nearly all the portraits are fascinating: Oswolt             
Krell, whose earnest concentration shows even in the veins of his            
hands; or Bernhard von Resten, with the delicate blue blouse, the            
majestic overspreading hat, the meditative eyes of an absorbed artist;       
or Jakob Muffel, burgomaster of Nuremberg, a brown study of earnest                   
devotion, shedding some light on the greatness and prosperity of the         
city; or the two portraits of Durer's father, weary with toil in 1490,             
quite worn out in 1497; or the    Portrait of a Gentleman  in the Prado-       
virility incarnate, tarnished with cruelty and greed; or Elizabeth           
Tucher, holding her wedding ring and gazing diffidently into marriage;       
or the    Portrait of a Venetian Lady - Durer had to go to Italy to find             
beauty as well as strength. There is seldom refinement in his male