It is foreign to my purpose to criticize the works of brother artists of the present day. I behold their excellent productions with pleasure; in them there is no falling off: they surpass those of the artists of the olden times. I cannot, however, help lamenting that, in all the vicissitudes which the art of wood engraving has undergone, some species of it is lost and done away: I mean the large blocks with the prints from them, so common to be seen when I was a boy in every cottage and farm house throughout the country. These blocks, I suppose, from their size, must have been cut on the plank way on beach, or some other kind of close-grained wood; and from the immense number of impressions from them, so cheaply and extensively spread over the whole country, must have given employment to a great number of artists, in this inferior department of wood cutting; and must also have formed to them an important article of traffic. These prints, which were sold at a very low price, were commonly illustrative of some memorable exploits, or were, perhaps, the portraits of eminent men, who had distinguished themselves in the service of their country, or in their patriotic exertions to serve mankind. Besides these, there were a great variety of other designs, often with songs added to them of a moral, a patriotic, or a rural tendency, which served to enliven the circle in which they were admired. To enumerate the great variety of these pictures would be a task. A constant one in every house, was “King Charles’ Twelve Good Rules.” Amongst others were representations of remarkable victories at sea, and battles on land, often accompanied with portraits of those who commanded, and others who had borne a conspicuous part in these contests with the enemy. The house at Ovingham, where our dinner poke was taken care of when at school, was hung round with views or representations of the battles of Zondorf, and several others; also the portraits of Tom Brown, the valiant grenadier, of Admiral Haddock, Admiral Benbow, and other portraits of admirals. There was also a representation of the “Victory” man-of-war, of 100 guns, commanded by Admiral Sir John Balchen, and fully manned with 1,100 picked seamen and volunteers, all of whom, with this uncommonly fine ship, were lost—sunk to the bottom of the sea. This was accompanied by a poetical lament of the catastrophe, part of which was—

Some of the portraits, I recollect, now and then to be met with, were very well done in this way, on wood. In Mr. Gregson’s kitchen, one of this character hung against the wall many years. It was a remarkably good likeness of Captain Coram. In cottages everywhere were to be seen the “Sailor’s Farewell” and his “Happy Return,” “Youthful Sports,” and the “Feats of Manhood,” “The Bold Archers Shooting at a Mark,” “The Four Seasons,” &c. Some subjects were of a funny—others of a grave character. I think the last portraits I remember were of some of the rebel lords and “Duke Willy.” These kind of wood cut pictures are long since quite gone out of fashion, which I feel very sorry for, and most heartily wish they could be revived. It is desirable, indeed, that the subjects should be well chosen; for it must be of great importance that such should be the case; as, whatever can serve to instil morality and patriotism into the minds of the whole people must tend greatly to promote their own happiness and the good of the community. All men, however poor they may be, ought to feel that this is their country, as well as it is that of the first nobleman of the land; and, if so, they will be equally as interested in its happiness and prosperity.

There is another way, not yet indeed entered upon, of similar import to the foregoing, in which prints might with good effect be made of subjects fit to embellish almost every house throughout our country: and that is from wood blocks printed in colours, like paper-hangings. Having seen some such done by paper-stainers, so as almost to equal good paintings, leads me to wish that this method could be pursued—for the same ends as those already noticed. The most remarkable productions of art of this kind from blocks done to print in colours, like beautiful little paintings, were sent to me by Gubitz, of Berlin; they might indeed be said to be perfection. Several impressions from duplicate or triplicate blocks, printed in this way, of a very large size, were also given to me, as well as a drawing of the press from which they were printed, many years ago, by Jean Baptiste Jackson, who had been patronized by the king of France; but, whether these prints had been done with the design of embellishing the walls of houses in that country, I know not. They had been taken from paintings of eminent old masters, and were mostly Scripture pieces. They were well drawn, and perhaps correctly copied from the originals, yet in my opinion none of them looked well. Jackson left Newcastle quite enfeebled with age, and, it was said, ended his days in an asylum, under the protecting care of Sir Gilbert Elliot, bart., at some place on the border near the Teviot, or on Tweedside.

Whether the speculations here noticed may be thought worthy of being acted upon, I know not, but it is not to any of the above noticed ways of wood cutting that my attention is directed: it is, in my ardent desire to see the stroke engraving on wood carried to the utmost perfection, that I hope the world will be gratified; and I trust the time is not distant when its superior excellence will be seen, particularly in landscape scenery, so as to surpass bank notes engravings. The effect to be produced by wood engraving has not, in that way, yet been tried, nor its powers made apparent. This is, I think, to be attained by two, or even more, blocks being employed, on one print, so that a greater and more natural effect—as to colour and softness—may be produced. I am well aware that some difficulty may arise, as to bringing off a clear impression of fine strokes from so large a surface, but in this age of mechanical improvement and invention, I think this apparent difficulty will readily be got over. Perhaps printing from a roller, instead of an even down pull, may easily accomplish this business. I have often thought, had William Woollett been a wood engraver, he would have shown its excellence long ago: his prints from copper have not been equalled; but, from the nature of the wood, and the effect it produces, he would have advanced a step further, and on it have outdone his excellence on copper. If I live, health and sight continued, I will make the attempt to show that all this is not a visionary theory. Should I not live to get this Memoir printed under my own inspection,—or whether it will ever be printed at all, I know not,—but at any rate the manuscript itself will show, were that necessary, how ardently I have ever wished well to arts and artists; and though, in my endeavours to show this, I have often been thwarted and disappointed, yet I never lost sight of my object, nor became disheartened in my struggles to fight through, and surmount numberless difficulties and bars thrown in my way.

I have already noticed my brother John, as my first pupil, and therefore have little further to say respecting him, only, that Nature seemed to have befitted him for becoming a first-rate artist; but, at the time he was with me, the thoughts of arriving at excellence did not enter into our heads, and he left the world at the time when wood engraving was only beginning to be looked upon as a matter of any interest. And, now when the time is fast approaching for my winding up all my labours, I may be allowed to name my own son and partner, whose time has been taken up with attending to all the branches of our business: and who, I trust, will not let wood engraving go down; and, though he has not shown any partiality towards it, yet the talent is there, and I hope he will call it forth.