question as to the chance a man of small means may ever have of handling, in these days of keen competition, rare examples of the great masters of the graver with their multitudinous states. It is not every one who has the leisure during the hours of daylight to attend at the Print Room at the British Museum, where every facility is offered for the examination of fine specimens, nor, in lieu of that, is the contemplation of splendid impressions behind glass set forth elsewhere, of anything like so much practical value as the turning over and personally scrutinising hundreds of examples in printsellers' shops. It is an essential point in the study of old prints that the beginner must handle the engravings, as in the collection of old china—all else is vain theory.
Forgeries.—Their name is legion. There are rank fabrications of old masters' work. There are splendid copies done by contemporaries as in the case of Dürer. There are harmless interpretations, such as those by Captain Baillie of Rembrandt and others. There are also photographic reproductions published without intent to deceive by iconographic societies, but diverted from their limited sale and foisted upon unwary collectors as originals. Since the art of engraving has fallen upon evil days many of its last exponents have turned their attention to practices not numbered among the fine arts. The writer saw a short time ago a whole set of Bewick's wood engravings photographed on to wood blocks ready for engraving by some fraudulent wood engraver.
The usual test of photographic work is that it has a suspiciously smooth and parchment-like surface.
