In a past century the author of a well-digested and elaborately accurate monograph, the fruit of a life's labour, was well content to entitle it 'Brief Contributions towards a History of So-and-So.' Nowadays, after a few weeks' special cramming, a hastily written record of the facts which most impressed the writer is labelled often enough 'A History.' Were this book called by the earlier phrase, it would still be overweighted. Nor did an English idiom exist that would provide the exact synonym for catalogue-raisonnÉ, could the phrase be employed truthfully. It is at most a roughly annotated, tentative catalogue like those issued for art critics on press-days with the superscription 'under revision'—an equivalent of the legal reservation 'without prejudice.' To conceal the labour and present the results in interesting fashion, which is the aim of the Chancellor of the Exchequer on a 'Budget' night, ought also to be that of the compiler of any document crammed with distantly unrelated facts. But the time required for rewriting a book of this class, after it has grown into shape, would be enough to appal a person who had no other duties to perform, and absolutely prohibitive to one not so happily placed. In estimating the errors which are certain to have crept into this record of a few thousand facts selected from many thousands, the author is obviously the last person to have any idea of their number; for did he suspect their existence, they would be corrected before the work appeared. Yet all the same, despite his own efforts and those of kindly hands who have re-collated the references in the majority of cases, he cannot flatter himself he has altogether escaped the most insidious danger that besets a compilation of this kind, The choice of representative illustrations has been most perplexing. Some twenty years' intimacy with most of the books and magazines mentioned herein made it still less easy to decide upon their abstract merits. Personal prejudice—unconscious, and therefore the more subtle—is sure to have influenced the selection; sometimes, perhaps, by choosing old favourites which others regard as second-rate, and again by too reticent approval of those most appreciated personally, from a fear lest the partiality should be sentimental rather than critical. But, and it is as well to make the confession at once, many have been excluded for matters quite unconnected with their art. Judging from the comments of the average person who is mildly interested in the English illustrations of the past, his sympathy vanishes at once if the costumes depicted are 'old-fashioned.' Whilst I have been working on these books, if a visitor called, and turned over their pages, unless he chanced to be an artist by profession as well as by temperament, the spoon-bill bonnet and the male 'turban' of the 'sixties' merely provoked ridicule. As my object is to reawaken interest in work familiar enough to artists, but neglected at present by very many people, it seems wiser not to set things before them which would only irritate. Again, it is difficult to be impartial concerning the beauty of old favourites; whether your mother or sister happen to be handsome is hardly a point of which you are a trustworthy judge. Other omissions are due to the right, incontestable if annoying, every other person possesses in common with oneself, 'to do what he likes with his own'; and certain publishers, acting on this principle, prefer that half-forgotten engravings should remain so. The information and assistance so freely given should be credited in detail, yet to do so were to occupy space already exceeded. But I cannot avoid naming Mr. G.H. Boughton, R.A., Mr. Dalziel, Mr. G.R. Halkett, Mr. Fairfax Murray, and Mr. Joseph Pennell for their kind response to various inquiries. Thanks are also due to the many holders of copyrights who have permitted the illustrations to be reproduced. As some blocks have changed hands since they The claims of wood-engraving versus process have been touched upon here very rarely. If any one doubts that nearly all the drawings of the 'sixties' lost much, and that many were wholly ruined by the engraver, he has but to compare them with reproductions by modern processes from a few originals that escaped destruction at the time. If this be not a sufficient evidence, the British Museum and South Kensington have many examples in their permanent collections which will quickly convince the most stubborn. If some few engravers managed to impart a certain interest at the expense of the original work, which not merely atones for the loss but supplies in its place an intrinsic work of art, such exceptions no way affect the argument. Wood-engraving of the first order is hardly likely to die out. It is true that, as the craft finds fewer recruits, the lessened number of journeymen, experts in technique (whence real artist-engravers may be expected to spring up at intervals), will diminish the supply. Given the artist as craftsman, he may always be trusted to distance his rival, whether it be mechanism or a profit-making corporation which reduces the individuality of its agents to the level of machines. For in art, still more than in commerce, it is the personal equation that finally controls and shapes the project to mastery, and the whole charm of the sixties is the individual charm of each artist. The incompetent draughtsman, then, was no less uninteresting than he is to-day; even the fairly respectable illustrators gain nothing by the accident that they flourished in 'the golden decade.' But the best of the work which has never ceased to delight fellow-workers will, no doubt, maintain its interest in common with good work of all schools and periods. Therefore, this rough attempt at a catalogue of some of its most striking examples, although its publication happens to coincide with a supposed 'boom,' may have more than ephemeral Collectors of all sorts know the various stages which their separate hobbies impose on them. First, out of pure love for their subject, they gather together chance specimens almost at haphazard. Then, moved by an ever-growing interest, they take the pursuit more seriously, and, as one by one the worthier objects fall into their hands, they grow still more keen. Later, they discover to their sorrow that a complete collection is, humanly speaking, impossible: certain unique examples are not to be obtained for love or money, or, at all events, for the amount at their personal disposal. At last they realise, perhaps, that after all the cheapest and most easily procured are also the most admirable and delightful. This awakening comes often enough when a catalogue has been prepared, and on looking over it they find that the treasures they valued at one time most highly are only so estimated by fellow-collectors; then they realise that the more common objects which fall within the reach of every one are by far the best worth possessing. A homely American phrase (and the word homely applies in a double sense) runs: 'He has bitten off more than he can chew.' The truth of the remark is found appropriate as I write these final words. To mark, learn, and inwardly digest the output of ten to fifteen years' illustration must needs be predestined failure, if space and time for its preparation are both limited. The subject has hitherto been almost untouched, and when in certain aspects it has attracted writers, they have approached it almost always from the standpoint of artistic appreciation and criticism. Here, despite certain unintentional lapses into that nobler path, the intention has been to keep strictly to a catalogue of published facts and with a few bibliographical notes added. Setting out with a magnificent scheme—to present an iconography of the work of every artist of the first rank—the piles of manuscript devoted to this comprehensive task which are at my side prove the impracticability of the enterprise. To annotate the work of Sir John Gilbert or Mr. Birket Foster GLEESON WHITE. 10 Theresa Terrace, |