small art gallery of his own, which will be a constant joy and add to the
attractions of his home. The examples, however, must be chosen with the
knowledge of what is good art, for the general public often talk of
“process work” as art, and call any illustration a picture. “Art of any
kind is creation and photography of any kind is description,” as it has
been aptly put by Singer and Strang, who further add, “Anybody who claims
that a photograph or photogravure gives him any artistic pleasure is his
own dupe.” Such productions have their value for purposes of study and
illustration of books, but they are not art. Art is a creation of the
human brain.

A true appreciation of art requires some technical knowledge, as will be
readily admitted by anyone who gives the subject a little consideration.
The uneducated are pleased with bright and gaudy colouring ; a crowd is
generally to be found round a painting of any popular subject, more
especially if the canvas be large, attracted by the sentiment, and utterly
regardless as to whether the drawing be careful or careless, the
composition good or bad, and the values (light and shade) true or
incorrect. I will endeavour to show how the knowledge is to be acquired to
enable us to pick out the good from the bad in order that we may only
select for the adornment of our rooms those works which will afford the
highest enjoyment and be a continual pleasure ; for the attraction of a
good picture grows, while that of a bad one soon palls, however much at
the first sight we have been misled by its sentiment.

There ought to be little difficulty in judging whether the drawing be
correct or faulty. But the question of good composition is more complex.
To be good there must be a centre of special interest, that should be near
but not in the centre of the picture. To this everything else depicted
should be mote or less subordinate. For in composing a picture it is most
important to know what to leave out. Too much detail wearies the eye and
gives an objectionable spottiness, and the lights and shades must be
massed in such a manner as to join with the general tendency of the lines
of the drawing in leading to the centre of interest. These details are so
arranged in a good picture that the eye is at once led to this point and
the observer obtains a feeling of rest, while the reverse is the case in a
bad composition, for in viewing such the eye wanders aimlessly over it,
drawn first in one direction and then in another, without rest and without
satisfaction, consequently without enjoyment. There must also be an
appearance of plenty of space. This is especially noticeable in the work
of that master of composition, that famous illustrator of books, the late
Sir John Gilbert, P.R.W.S. In his drawings, however small and however
numerous the figures, there always appears to be plenty of room to move
about.

Among the reasons that photographs of natural scenes are so unsatisfactory
may be mentioned the fact that the details are too prominent and cause
spottiness, and that the values are untrue, for the different colours act
upon the chemicals used, in different ratios to the true values of the
light and shade. For instance, in a photograph yellow appears black, red
almost so, while a dark indigo appears nearly white. Yet, notwithstanding,
one constantly hears the remark made by the unobservant, “It is a
photograph and so must be true.” These objections, of course, do not
obtain in the case of photographs of monochromatic drawings, for where
only one colour is used the values are preserved. Nothing reproduces so
well as a clear black pen line, and the recent improvements in photo-to
mechanical processes—“process work”—have been so great that almost perfect
facsimiles of such work can be obtained at nominal cost, and these form
the exception to the rule laid down as to the artistic value of “process.”

Until quite recently it was almost impossible in this colony to obtain
that knowledge of this branch of art which can only be attained by the
study of good original work, but last year the Government, at the request
of the Museum committee, granted a special sum for the purchase of
specimens. The task of selecting these was kindly undertaken by Mr. Joseph
Pennell, of London, who is the highest living authority on the subject. A
number have already arrived, and have just been placed on view in the art
gallery, where they can be seen any day that the Museum is open, i.e.,
daily from 10 to 5, Mondays excepted, and Sundays from 2.30 to 5. To study
these with full advantage it is necessary to acquire further knowledge
than can be given in the short, explanatory notes appended to them.
Fortunately this can be easily obtained in the adjacant [sic] building,
the Victoria Public Library, which has an excellent selection of books of
art, quite up to date as far as English authors are concerned, although
not so at present as far as French and German writers are concerned.

The black and white collection in the Museum comprises pen and ink
drawings, some of which have more or less brush work added, and drawings
in chalk, the latter being mostly studies for paintings, and the former
works that have been reproduced in books, magazines and papers. They
include drawings by Lord Leighton, Sir Edward Burne-Jones, Sir John E.
Millais, Sir David Wilkie, A. Boyd Houghton (very few of whose original
drawings are in existence, for being as a rule done directly on wood
blocks, they were necessarily cut away by the craftsman) G. J. Pinwell,
Fred Walker, Alfred Persons, Charles Keeene, J. Mahoney, William Small,
Lawrence Housman, R. A. Bell, Aubrey Beardsley, Maurice Greiffenhagen and
Phil May, of the English school ; A. B. Frost, Robert Blum and E. A.
Abbey, of the American school; Adolf Menzel, of the German school ; and J.
L. Forain, A. Willette and Paul Renouard, of the French school. There are
also a number of original etchings by Sir Francis Seymour-Haden, founder
and president of the Society of Painter-Etchers, J. A. McNeil Whistler,
Oliver Hall, William Strang, Frank Short and C. J. Watson, all of the
English school, and one of the French school, a dry-point by Paul Helleu.

As a supplement to this collection there will be shortly added a series of
examples of different methods of printing pictures in black and white,
which will enter more fully into the processes employed. For the present
it will suffice to say that they may be grouped under three heads, viz.,
Reliefs, Intaglio, and Plane. Woodcuts are an example of the first, all
the lines of the design stand out in relief, and the spaces to appear
white are cut away as in type. The art of wood-cutting dates from about
1,400. Etchings, engravings, etc., are printed from metal plates in which
the lines to appear black are sunk, hence the name Intaglio. The ink being
wiped off the level portions of the surface and left only in the cuts from
which it is absorbed by the paper under the pressure of the printing
machine. Lithographs are printed from plane surfaces, the design being
drawn with a prepared chalk of a greasy nature, or with a pen or brush
with a special oily ink on the stone or other medium, which is kept
constantly moist by the printer, so that the ink from his roller only
adheres to the greasy lines and thence is transferred to the paper in the
press.

In conclusion, readers may be advised to examine these drawings carefully,
not to merely glance at them and pass on, for they can be assured that
they will well repay careful study, and that on each succeeding visit they
will obtain greater enjoyment as they gain fuller knowledge and a keener
appreciation of the skill displayed in these works of the great masters of
the art of illustration.