Perhaps it is worth while just here to rescue from oblivion the exceedingly funny account of some newspaper writer, whose story of Mr. Gibson’s methods is widely at variance with that we are telling, and what Gibson himself told, but which has a certain weird charm of its own. Commenting upon the “marvelous skill” ascribed to Gibson, he proceeds to say that nothing could be simpler than his method. “When Mr. Gibson sets out on a walk he always takes a camera with him, and when an especially interesting twig or fern attracts his attention, he promptly snaps at it. On his return home the plates are sent to the nearest photographer to be developed and from the negatives thus obtained, ‘bleach prints’ are made. Mr. Gibson then proceeds to draw very carefully on these prints, following of course the outline, shading, etc., of the photograph. After the drawings are finished, all traces of the photograph are quickly bleached out by immersing them in a simple solution of chemicals, leaving only the drawings on white paper.” After such a graphic and veracious account of the way in which the foremost American illustrator made his pictures, one is not surprised to have the writer add the brave statement that “it may be said without fear of contradiction that whatever excellence may exist in Mr. Gibson’s published work, is due to the careful work of the photographer and the engraver.” Such is the sort of stuff which some metropolitan newspapers serve up as “art criticism.” The writer might indeed declare that he spoke without fear of contradiction; for nobody would take the trouble to contradict an account so ridiculous. How refreshing, after such a tissue of absurdities, to read the letter of Henry Marsh, foremost among the wood-engravers of his day, the estimate, by a real artist, of another artist: “POMFRET CENTRE, CONN., _March 8th_. “DEAR SIR: “Pressure of work has prevented me from answering yours of Jan. 1st. I did not see an impression of the ‘chick a dee dee’ block and was surprised to find it was in any degree successful. I have never even seen a drawing of yours till now and have never had any idea of your artistic quality. Common printed impressions of course represent no one fairly, but those artists lose the most who have the most to lose, and you are no exception to the rule, as I should never have guessed what your drawings looked like from anything I ever have seen printed. You will certainly be disappointed in my rendering of your work, for I have no patience and my hand is not as firm or my line as delicate as your drawings require, but if you send me a block I shall do it honestly after my fashion. With hearty sympathy in the troubles which you must always find in the engraving of your most elegant and refined work, I remain “Yours truly, “HENRY MARSH.