Agostino Caracci, of the Bolognese family, memorable in Art, added to considerable success as painter undoubted triumphs as engraver. His prints are numerous, and many are regarded with favor; but in the long list not one is so sure of that longevity allotted to Art as his portrait of Titian, which bears date 1587, eleven years after the death of the latter. Over it is the inscription, “_Titiani Vecellii Pictoris celeberrimi ac famosissimi vera effigies_,”--to which is added beneath, “_Cujus nomen orbis continere non valet_.” Although founded on originals by Titian himself, it was probably designed by the remarkable engraver. It is very like, and yet unlike, the familiar portrait of which we have a recent engraving by Mandel, from a repetition in the Gallery of Berlin. Looking at it, we are reminded of the terms by which Vasari described the great painter: “_Giudizioso, bello e stupendo_.”[151] Such a head, with such visible power, justifies these words, or at least makes us believe them entirely applicable. It is broad, bold, strong, and instinct with life. This print, like the Erasmus of Dürer, is among those selected for exhibition at the British Museum; and it deserves the honor. Though only paper with black lines, it is, by the genius of the artist, as good as a picture. In all engraving nothing is better. Contemporary with Caracci was Heinrich Goltzius, at Haarlem, excellent as painter, but, like the Italian, preëminent as engraver. His prints show mastery of the art, making something like an epoch in its history. His unwearied skill in the use of the burin appears in a tradition gathered by Longhi from Wille,--that, having commenced a line, he carried it to the end without once stopping, while the long and bright threads of copper turned up were brushed aside by his flowing beard, which at the end of a day’s labor so shone in the light of the candles, that his companions nicknamed him _The Man with the Golden Beard_.[152] There are prints by him which shine more than his beard. Among his masterpieces is the portrait of his instructor, Dirk Coornhert, engraver, poet, musician, and vindicator of his country, and author of the National air, “William of Nassau,” whose passion for Liberty did not prevent him from giving to the world translations of Cicero’s “Offices” and Seneca’s treatise on Beneficence. But the portrait of the engraver himself, as large as life, is one of the most important in the art. Among the numerous prints by Goltzius, these two will always be conspicuous.