the humanist’s devotion to classical art and the fiery energy of a man of action, filled with his art, rugged, stern, taking from nature and antiquity the forms of artistic expression. At his hands the world is invested with a grandeur seldom achieved, inspiring to his contemporaries, helpful and stimulating to young Dürer in his strivings toward greater breadth, simplicity, and unity of composition. In Mantegna’s “Christ between two Saints,” we find the same scant means of graver-work which he employed in all his austere compositions: a well-defined outline, even, without swelling, softening accents, simple shading, generally in a uniform diagonal direction; nowhere an attempt at texture, or differentiation of color. The subjects are all treated as though they were cut in high relief on slabs of stone, without variation of surface or suggestion of distance. Venetian influence mitigates the ruggedness of Mantegna’s gaunt, imposing “John the Baptist,” by means of the unusual, soft, stippling technique adopted by Giulio Campagnola, which gives the print more the appearance of a grainy wash drawing, in contrast with the usual pen-and-ink aspect of early Italian prints. Scores of other important examples might be adduced, but they can easily be found in any good history of engraving. [Illustration: ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST Giulio Campagnola] IV ITALY The sixteenth century brings new developments to be noted, new factors to be considered. In Germany it rings in the culmination of artistic development under the leadership of Albrecht Dürer, whose towering personality lifts both engraving and woodcut to high levels of excellence. The cultivation of the technique of engraving has carried Germany far and away beyond the South, in a technical perfection duly appreciated in Italy; and when the demand for prints grows, when they become a marketable article, the Italian engraver copies German prints in order to gain the requisite technical knowledge. This Italian _engraver_, however, is not a painter-engraver as in Germany, an artist, namely, engraving his own designs. We know that the Italian artist continues intent on grander tasks and indifferent to the charms of the graver, hence a division of labor: the busy painter jots down the sketch or cartoon and the professional engraver undertakes the lengthy task of transferring, of interpreting the artist’s drawing by means of the graver. The subtle continuity of thought, from the first conception to the finished plate, which we prize in original engraving, is necessarily destroyed in such collaboration, but the engraver, working exclusively on the copper plate, is able infinitely to vary and develop the resources of the process by dint of practice. A noted instance of such collaboration is found in the “Death of Dido,” engraved after Raphael’s design by Marcantonio Raimondi. The lifework of Marcantonio is mainly devoted to the reproduction of sketches of the