_Cardinal Guido Bentivoglio_, after Van Dyck, well deserves the reputation which it has so long enjoyed. It is, furthermore, significant as an example of Morin’s power of concentrating all the attention upon the countenance of his sitter. He was primarily a _portrait_ engraver and never allowed himself to be seduced, as were such eighteenth century masters as the Drevets, into lavishing his skill upon the purely ornamental accessories, to the detriment of the portrait itself. Fine though Van Dyck’s full-length painting is, Morin is more than justified in taking from it the head and bust only, since thereby he gives to his plate a vivid and compelling quality which otherwise would be lacking. [Illustration: JEAN MORIN. CARDINAL GUIDO BENTIVOGLIO Size of the original engraving, 11½ × 9¼ inches In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston] [Illustration: ROBERT NANTEUIL. POMPONE DE BELLIÈVRE Size of the original engraving, 12⅞ × 9⅞ inches In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston] ROBERT NANTEUIL is not only the greatest of French portrait engravers; he is one of the greatest portraitists in the history of French art. In his work the clarity and logic of the French temperament is enriched by a study of the engravers of the Flemish and Dutch schools, though in Nanteuil’s plates color is never sought at the expense of balance. His technique is a fusion of the best elements of Mellan and of Morin. From Mellan he derived his carefully balanced system of open line work, while Morin doubtless suggested to him the use of graver flicks in modelling the face. The date of Nanteuil’s birth is variously given as 1623, 1625, and 1630, the last-named date, which is accepted by Robert-Dumesnil, corresponding best with what we know regarding the development of his work. His first portrait plates were done in 1648, the year in which he came to Paris, and from that time onwards he devoted himself almost exclusively to portraiture, until his death in 1678. His engravings form a gallery illustrating the reign of Louis XIV, from the King himself, whom he engraved no fewer than eleven times, to the Norman peasant and poet, Loret (incidentally, one of Nanteuil’s finest portrait plates), whose “Gazette” satirized each day “the intriguing nobles who were not afraid of bullets, but who were in deadly fear of winter mud.” An interesting story is told of Nanteuil’s début in Paris. It is said that he received his first order by following some divinity students to a wine-shop, where they were wont to take their meals. There, having chosen one of the portrait drawings he had brought from Rheims, he pretended to look for a sitter whose name and address he had forgotten. It is superfluous to add that the picture was not recognized, but it was passed from hand to hand, the price was asked, the artist was modest in his demands, and before the end of the repast his career had begun.