It is to be supposed that Dupré accepted these conditions, since he is the engraver of the John Paul Jones medal, one of the finest specimens in our collection. The Daniel Morgan piece is no less remarkable as an effort of numismatic skill. The fight at the Cowpens, on the reverse, is a striking example of the boldness with which Dupré enlarged (p. xxii) the limits of his art, and, in defiance of all traditional rules, successfully represented several planes in the background. I cannot do better than to give the opinion, concerning this and the other of Dupré's American medals, of M. Charles Blanc,[10] from whom I quote freely in the following: [Footnote 10: INSTITUT DE FRANCE--ACADÉMIE DES BEAUX-ARTS _Notice sur la vie et les ouvrages d'Augustin Dupré, Graveur-Général des Monnoies de la République. Lue dans la séance trimestrielle des cinq classes de l'Institut, le 26 Octobre, 1870, par M. Charles Blanc_.] The Morgan medal, says this eminent French critic, seems to vibrate beneath the rush of cavalry and the tread of infantry flying in the background, indicated by the almost imperceptible lines of the metal where the smoke of the cannonade is vanishing away in air. In the Libertas Americana medal, which recalls, if we except the evacuation of Boston, the two most memorable events of the War of Independence, namely, the capitulation of General Burgoyne, at Saratoga, in October, 1777, and that of General Lord Cornwallis, at Yorktown, in October, 1781, Dupré has represented the new-born Liberty, sprung from the prairies without ancestry and without rulers, as a youthful virgin, with disheveled hair and dauntless aspect, bearing across her shoulder a pike, surmounted by the Phrygian cap. This great artist, in consequence of his intimacy with Franklin, had conceived the greatest enthusiasm for the cause of the United States. Franklin resided at Passy, and Dupré at Auteuil. As they both went to Paris every day, they met and made acquaintance on the road--an acquaintance which soon ripened into friendship. Dupré first engraved Franklin's seal with the motto, "_In simplici salus_," and afterward his portrait. This (p. xxiii) portrait presents an _alto-rilievo_ which is well adapted for medals only; it is conceived in the spirit of the French school, which has always attached great importance to the truthful rendering of flesh. The artist has indicated the flat parts, the relaxation of the muscles, and, as it were, the quivering of the flesh, so as to convey an exact idea of the age of the model. He has conscientiously represented the lines which the finger of Time imprints on the countenance, but, above all, he has given us with wonderful fidelity the physiognomy of the American sage, his shrewd simplicity, his sagacity, and his expression of serene uprightness. A Latin hexameter