njoying anything else rightly; and are
continually attributing to the force of his imagination quaintnesses
which are merely part of the general mannerism of his day.

The following notes upon him, in relation to two other excellent
engravers, were written shortly for extempore expansion in lecturing. I
give them, with the others in this terminal article, mainly for use to
myself in future reference; but also as more or less suggestive to the
reader, if he has taken up the subject seriously, and worth, therefore,
a few pages of this closing sheet.

249. The men I have named as representative of all the good ones
composing their school, are alike resolved their engraving shall be
lovely.

But Botticelli, the ancient, wants, with as little engraving, as much
Sibyl as possible.

Duerer, the central, wants, with as much engraving as possible, anything
of Sibyl that may chance to be picked up with it.

Beaugrand, the modern, wants, as much Sibyl as possible, and as much
engraving too.

250. I repeat--for I want to get this clear to you--Botticelli wants,
with as little engraving, as much Sibyl as possible. For his head is
full of Sibyls, and his heart. He can't draw them fast enough: one
comes, and another and another; and all, gracious and wonderful and
good, to be engraved forever, if only he had a thousand hands and lives.
He scratches down one, with no haste, with no fault, divinely careful,
scrupulous, patient, but with as few lines as possible. 'Another
Sibyl--let me draw another, for heaven's sake, before she has burnt all
her books, and vanished.'

Duerer is exactly Botticelli's opposite. He is a workman, to the heart,
and will do his work magnificently. 'No matter what I do it on, so that
my craft be honorably shown. Anything will do; a Sibyl, a skull, a
Madonna and Christ, a hat and feather, an Adam, an Eve, a cock, a
sparrow, a lion with two tails, a pig with five legs,--anything will do
for me. But see if I don't show you what engraving is, be my subject
what it may!'

251. Thirdly: Beaugrand, I said, wants as much Sibyl as possible, and as
much engraving. He is essentially a copyist, and has no ideas of his
own, but deep reverence and love for the work of others. He will give
his life to represent another man's thought. He will do his best with
every spot and line,--exhibit to you, if you will only look, the most
exquisite completion of obedient skill; but will be content, if you will
not look, to pas