the finest. But a bad or worn impression should not be tolerated, no matter how cheap it is. Such a print is known by its general effect of weakness and paleness; the figures have lost their rotundity, and the perspective is almost gone. Especially among old engravings are bad impressions to be avoided.

Modern impressions taken from such old plates as still exist are also worthless. A print, to be as it should be, must have been printed at the time it was engraved. Modern impressions are readily known by the paper on which they are printed.

Another necessary warning is against "retouched" impressions; many plates have been thus ruined, when, after they have begun to wear out from use, they have been recut in the worn parts by incompetent hands. The effect of a retouched impression is dull, heavy, and disagreeable; all the harmony and beauty of the plate are gone. It is only fine original impressions in good condition that worthily represent the great

engravers.

What is to-day the situation of line engraving, considered as a fine art? There is perhaps only one man of recent years who deserves to rank with those who have preceded him, and he- the German Mandel said, "When I die there will be no more." A century ago, Morghen, Longhi, Bartolozzi, and Sharp were still living. But the glory has departed from the graver, and who is he who will take it up where the Masters laid it down?

THE CARRYING-OFF OF DEJANEIRA BY THE CENTAUR NESSUS

Size of the original print, 224 by 16 inches.

From the line-engraving by Charles Clément Bervic, after the painting by Guido Reni, now in the Louvre, Paris. This fine engraving won the decennial prize awarded by the French Institute for the best engraving executed between 1800 and 1810.

NAPOLEON THE GREAT

Size of the original print, 27 by 20 inches.

From the line-engraving by Auguste Boucher Desnoyers (1779-1857), after the painting by Gérard. "His next important work was the full-length portrait of the Emperor Napoleon in his coronation robes. This engraving was exhibited at the Salon of 1810, and for it Desnoyers received no less than fifty thousand francs. Napoleon also created Desnoyers a baron.". Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers.

SOME MASTERPIECES OF THE OLD

ENGRAVERS

A Lecture delivered at Yale University

WHEN

HEN last I had the honor of addressing the Graduates' Club my subject was "Personal Sketches of some famous Etchers."

On that occasion I endeavored to interest my audience as much in the personality of etchers whom I have known, as in their works. Legitimate personal gossip of eminent persons is always interesting; and gossip, when it does not degenerate into scandal, is nothing more and nothing worse than the interest which we take in each other. But on the present occasion my subject is entirely shut off from this direct avenue to your attention and sympathy. To many of us, the great engravers of the past are only blank names. I may say of them, as the poet Montgomery writes of the forgotten generations:

"They suffered; but their pains are o'er -
Enjoyed; but their delights are fled -
Had friends; their friends are now no more
And foes; their foes are dead."

And so, of necessity, if I can succeed in interesting you at all, it must be through the eye rather than through the ear. For this reason I

shall put in evidence some magnified reproductions of acknowledged masterpieces of the art of line engraving.

The engravings we shall examine cover a period of more than four hundred years, but, by a sort of paradox, our first illustration will not be a line engraving at all—but an etching, and an essentially modern etching at that; as unlike a line engraving as it well can be. We all know that the burin is the graving tool with which all line engraving is done. And this etching, done by Félix Buhot of Paris, represents The Burial of the Burin.

To the left we will see the dead burin borne away in a hearse to its grave, and followed by the mourners; above will be seen its soul carried by Angels to Paradise; while to the right Modern Illustration comes thundering on in the form of an express train, overwhelming and crushing out all opposition.

With regard to this lively Frenchman's allegory, I am compelled to say in the pithy words of old Polonius:

""Tis true 'tis pity; pity 'tis, 'tis true!"

The Burin is buried. Line engraving is dead. A very few of the famous engravers have survived till quite recently. Two years ago, in Paris, I saw Henriquel-Dupont, and he was still erect and handsome at the great age of ninetyfour years, but he has since died. Jacquet of