Andrea Mantegna, born in 1431, at Vicenza, and consequently Pollaiuolo’s senior by one year, was adopted, at the age of ten, by Squarcione, in Padua. Squarcione appears to have been less a painter than a contractor, undertaking commissions to be executed by artists in his employ. He was likewise a dealer in antiquities, and in his shop the young Mantegna must have met many of the leading humanists who had made Padua famous as a seat of classical learning. From them he drew in and absorbed that passion for imperial Rome which was to color his life and his art. His dream was of forms more beautiful than those of everyday life, built of some substance finer and less perishable than the flesh of frail humanity; and as years went by his work takes on, in increasing measure, a grander and more majestic aspect. Fortunate for us is it that in his mature period, when his style was fully formed, he himself was impelled, by influences of which later we shall speak, to take up the graving tool and with it produce the seven imperishable masterpieces which, beyond peradventure, we may claim as his authentic work. The _Virgin and Child_, the earliest of his engravings, can hardly have been executed before 1475, and maybe not until after 1480, when Mantegna had reached his fiftieth year. Mr. Hind points out that there is a simplicity and directness about it which recalls quite early work, similarly conceived, such as the _Adoration of the Kings_ of 1454; but the reasons which he advances are of equal weight in assigning it to a later date, and I am convinced that the intensity of mother-love expressed in the poise and face of the Virgin betokens a deeper feeling, a broader humanity, than one normally would expect in a youth of twenty-three, even though he be illumined with that flame of genius which burned so brightly in Mantegna. [Illustration: ANDREA MANTEGNA. VIRGIN AND CHILD Size of the original engraving, 9¾ × 8⅛ inches In the British Museum] [Illustration: ANDREA MANTEGNA. BATTLE OF THE SEA-GODS Size of the original engraving, 11⅝ × 17 inches. In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston] Technically, the plate plainly shows the hand of an engraver not yet master of his medium. It is marked with all the characteristics which we associate with Mantegna’s work: the strong outline, ploughed with repeated strokes of a rather blunt instrument into a plate of unbeaten copper or some yet softer metal; the diagonal shade lines widely spaced; and the light strokes blending all into a harmonious whole. In an impression of the first state, in the British Museum, there is a tone, similar to sulphur-tint, over portions of the plate, noticeably in the faces of the mother and child. How it was produced is still a matter of conjecture, but that it adds much to the beauty of the print is beyond question.