it.

Leech, no doubt, had a good natural hand, that swept about with
enviable freedom and boldness, but for want of early discipline it
could not execute these miracles of skill; and the commands that came
from the head also lacked the preciseness which results from patiently
acquired and well-digested knowledge, so that Mr. Hand was apt now and
then to zigzag a little on its own account--in backgrounds, on floors
and walls, under chairs and tables, whenever a little tone was felt to
be desirable--sometimes in the shading of coats and trousers and
ladies' dresses.

But it never took a liberty with a human face or a horse's head; and
whenever it went a little astray you could always read between the
lines and know exactly what it meant.

There is no difficulty in reading between Keene's lines; every one of
them has its unmistakable definite intimation; every one is the right
line in the right place!

We must remember that there are no such things as lines in nature.
Whether we use them to represent a human profile, the depth of a
shadow, the darkness of a cloak or a thunder-cloud, they are mere
conventional symbols. They were invented a long time ago, by a
distinguished sportsman who was also a heaven-born amateur artist--the
John Leech of his day--who engraved for us (from life) the picture of
mammoth on one of its own tusks.

And we have accepted them ever since as the cheapest and simplest way
of interpreting in black and white for the wood-engraver the shapes
and shadows and colours of nature. They may be scratchy, feeble, and
uncertain, or firm and bold--thick and thin--straight, curved,
parallel, or irregular--cross-hatched once, twice, a dozen times, at
any angle--every artist has his own way of getting his effect. But
some ways are better than others, and I think Keene's is the firmest,
loosest, simplest, and best way that ever was, and--the most difficult
to imitate. His mere pen-strokes have, for the expert, a beauty and an
interest quite apart from the thing they are made to depict, whether
he uses them as mere outlines to express the shape of things animate
or inanimate, even such shapeless, irregular things as the stones on a
sea-beach--or in combination to suggest the tone and colour of a
dress-coat, or a drunkard's nose, of a cab or omnibus--of a distant
mountain with miles of atmosphere between it and the figures in the
foreground.

[Illustration: THE SNOWSTORM, JAN. 2, 1867

CABBY (_petulantly-