the steel
plate. This was carried to the printer, who, having placed it between
damp paper and passed it through the press, returned it, the black-lead
outline distinctly appearing on the etching ground. And then the work
was straightforward to the artist's firm hand."

III

HENRY ALKEN

The books illustrated in colour at the end of the eighteenth and
beginning of the nineteenth century may be classed under certain
well-defined headings--narrative, topography, costume, and sport, the
last being by no means the least important. Although neither Gillray nor
Rowlandson ignored the sport of kings, it was Bunbury who, drawing upon
his own personal experiences, set the fashion for hunting and "horsey"
books, which were most commonly conceived in a vein of broad humour. Of
such was Bunbury's _Geoffry Gambado, or the Academy for Grown Horsemen_,
of which several editions appeared between 1788 and 1808. The most
distinguished of Bunbury's immediate successors was Henry Alken, an
artist whose origin seems wrapped in mystery. It has been rumoured that
he began his career as stud-groom or trainer to the Duke of Beaufort in
the opening years of the nineteenth century. His early drawings were
produced under the pseudonym of "Ben Tallyho," and the first work to
which he signed his own name seems to have been _The Beauties and
Defects in the Figure of the Horse, comparatively Delineated_, which
appeared in 1816. This was followed by some sets of humorous etchings in
frank imitation of Bunbury, such as _Specimens of Riding_, _Symptoms of
being Amazed_, _A Touch at the Fine Arts_, and, in 1821, by a folio
volume, _The National Sports of Great Britain_. In 1824 we find a most
complimentary allusion to Alken's work in an article on the fine arts in
_Blackwood's Magazine_, probably written by Christopher North. The
writer, after observing that George Cruikshank failed in one subject
only--the gentlemen of England--proceeds: "Where Cruikshank fails,
there, happily for England and for art, Henry Alken shines, and shines
like a star of the first magnitude. He has filled up the great blank
that was left by the disappearance of Bunbury. He is a gentleman--he has
lived with gentlemen--he understands their nature both in its strength
and its weakness.... In this work [_A Touch at the Fine Arts_] there is
a freedom of handling that is really delightful. Yet I am not sure but I
give the preference to my older favourite, _The Symptoms_. T