A History of Wood-Engraving Part 5

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 78.--Engraved by F. S. King.]

The scope of this volume does not allow any detailed account of the works of American engravers individually; but while the increased productiveness and improved technique of the art during the third quarter of the century are being noticed, it would be unjust to make no mention of the quiet, careful, and refined woodcuts of Mr. Anthony, or of the long and unflinching fidelity of Mr. Linton, with its reward in admirable work, or of the exquisite skill of Mr. Henry Marsh, the best of American engravers of that period. The latter's marvellous rendering of insect life in the ill.u.s.trations to Harris's Insects Injurious to Vegetation, published in 1862, can never be forgotten by any who have been fortunate enough to see the artist-proofs. His work is in the manner of copperplate-engraving, and affords one of the few instances in which wood-engraving has equalled the rival art in fineness, delicacy, softness, and gradation of tone. Whatever the critic's theory may be, he must remember that genius has a higher validity than reason, and must acknowledge such work as this to be its own justification.

Unfortunately, the cuts in the published volume were not--perhaps at that time could not be--printed with the success they deserved. The work of these three engravers ill.u.s.trates what advance had already been made in skilful line-arrangement and in technique before 1870, about which time the indications of an approaching change in the art became plainly evident. Since then progress has been uninterrupted, swift, marked by bold experiments and startling surprises. Now American engravers excel all others in knowledge of the resources of their art, and in control of its materials, as well as in the interest of their work. They have not, it is true, produced, as yet, anything to rank in artistic value with the designs of the older masters; but, in their hands, the art has gained a width and utility of influence among our people hitherto unequalled in any nation at any period. From the beginning of its history wood-engraving has been distinctively a democratic art; at present the ease and cheapness of its processes and the variety of its applications make it one of the most accessible sources of inexpensive information and pleasure; for this reason it has acquired in our country, where a reading middle cla.s.s forms the larger portion of the nation, a popular influence of such far-reaching and penetrative power as to make it a living art in a sense which none other of the fine arts can claim. It now enters into the intellectual life and enjoyment of our people to a degree and with a constancy impossible to other arts. In this respect, too, it is only at the beginning of its career; for, as popular education spreads, the place that the art holds in the national life will continually become more important. These social conditions, the technical skill of the engravers, and the appearance among the people of a critical spirit concerning their work--not perhaps to be called intelligent as yet, but forming, nascent, feeling its way into conscious and active life--make up a group of most favorable circ.u.mstances for a real artistic development. Whether such a development will take place depends in large measure on the clearness with which engravers understand the laws of their art, as presented by their materials, and on the degree in which such knowledge controls them. The experiments of recent years are to be judged finally by the results; but, in spite of the novel effects obtained, and of the new character that has been given to the art, there is at present no such unanimity, either among the engravers or the public, as to be decisive of the worth of the new work as a whole. While the issue is still doubtful, and the stake is the future of the only art by which those who care for the growth of civilization can develop in the people a sense of art, bring them to an appreciation of its value, open their understandings to its teachings, and fill their lives with its delights, something may be gained by recurring to fundamental principles, as ill.u.s.trated by the practice of the older masters, not with an end to limit the future by the past, but to foresee it. Such a brief review and summary of past thought respecting the aims and methods of wood-engraving, with such corrections as modern improvements in processes justify, will afford the surest ground for criticism of the work still to be considered.

All the graphic arts have to do with some one or more of the three modes under which nature is revealed to the artist--the mode of pure form, the mode of pure color, the mode of form and color, as they are affected by the different lights and shadows in which they exist. In nature these three modes do not exist separately, and usually no one of them is so prominent as to efface the others; in the several arts, however, the princ.i.p.al attention is given, now to one, now to another, of them, according to the capacities of the art and the powers of the artists.

Thus sculpture deals only with form, and even in painting, which includes all within its province, different masters make a choice, and aim princ.i.p.ally at reproducing color, or chiaroscuro, or form, as their talents direct them, for a genius seldom arises with the power to combine all these with the truth and harmony of nature. Wood-engraving, there is no need to say, cannot reproduce the real hues of objects, nor the play of light upon hue and form, nor the more marvellously transforming touch of shadow; it can represent the form of a peach, but it cannot paint its delicate tints, nor adequately and accurately show how the beauty of its bloom in sun differs from the beauty of its bloom in shade. More broadly, a landscape shot with the evanescent shadows that hover in rapidly moving mists, or the intermingling light and gloom of a wind-swept moonlit sky half overcast with clouds, wood-engraving has no power to mirror in true likeness. The most it can do in this direction is to indicate, it cannot express; it can exhibit strong contrasts and delicate gradations of light and shadow, and it can suggest varying intensity of hues, by the greater or less depth of its blacks and grays; but real color and perfect chiaroscuro it relinquishes to painting.

Form, therefore, is left as the main object of the wood-engraver's craft, and the representation of form is effected by delineation, drawing, line-work. This is why the great draughtsmen, such as Durer and Holbein, succeeded in designing for wood-engraving. They knew how to express form by lines, and they did not attempt to do more even when suggesting color-values by the convention of black and gray. Line-work is thus the main business of the engraver, because form must be expressed by lines. Line-work, however, is of different kinds, and all kinds are not equally proper for the art. Hitherto the fineness of line by which copperplate-engraving easily obtains delicacy of contour and soft transitions of tone, has been rarely and with difficulty attained by the best-skilled hand and eye among wood-engravers, and when attained has, usually, not been successfully printed. There remains, however, no longer any reason to exclude fine lines from wood-engraving, when once it has become plain that such work is possible without a wasteful expenditure of labor, that its results are valuable, and that it can be properly printed. But if it shall prove that the character of the line proper to copperplate is also proper to wood, it may be looked on as certain that the line-arrangement proper to the former material can never be rationally used for the latter. The crossing of lines to which the engraver on copperplate resorts is especially laborious to the engraver in wood, and after all his toil does not give any desirable effect which would not have resulted from other methods of work. It has been seen that Durer employed this cross-hatching in imitation of copperplate-engraving; but he did so because he was ignorant of the way to arrange color so that this difficult task of engraving cross-hatchings would be unnecessary. Holbein, who was equally ignorant of the possibilities of white line, rejected cross-hatching. Bewick also rejected it, and proved it was unnecessary even where much color was to be given. In the later work of the sixteenth century, and in modern English work, wood-engraving imitated its rival art both in the character and the arrangement of its lines; it failed in both instances mainly because such imitation involved a waste of labor, and did not result in works so valuable artistically as were obtained by copperplate-engraving with far greater ease. At present the objection to the use of cross-hatching in wood-engraving is as serious as ever, but the employment of fine lines for some purposes, as in the rendering of delicate textures and tones, has been justified, mainly in consequence of innovations in the modes of printing. The charm of this new and surprising beauty in fine-line woodcuts, however, has not at all deprived the old broad and bold line of its force and vigor, nor made less valuable the strong contrasts in which the art won its earlier success. On the contrary, it is in the old province and by the old methods that wood-engraving has worked out its most distinctive and peculiar effects of real value.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 79.--Mount Lafayette (White Mountains). By J.

Tinkey.]

In what has been thus far said of the line-work proper to wood-engraving, black line-work only has been referred to.

Wood-engraving is also an art of design in white line, and here a different set of considerations applies. There is not the same difficulty in cutting fine and delicate white lines, as is the case with black lines, nor the same unlikelihood of their effect being felt in the printed design. There is, too, no objection whatever to crossing white lines, as a mode of work, for it is as easy a process for the wood-engraver as crossing black lines is for the copperplate-engraver, and the result thus obtained is sometimes of great value, particularly in the moulding of the face. The art of design in white line, however, is but little developed; but, not to depreciate the older method of black line, which is extremely valuable, nevertheless it is clear that white line-work is the peculiar province of the wood-engraver, and that in developing its capacities the future of the art mainly lies, so far as it rests with him. The merit of all line-work, whether black or white, fine or broad, bold or subtle, depends upon the certainty with which the lines serve their purposes. If, as with Holbein, every line has its work to do, and does that work perfectly; if it fulfils its function of defining an outline, or marking the moulding of a muscle, or deepening the intensity of a shadow, or performing some similar service, then the designer has followed the method of high art, and has produced something of value. The work of all who practise the art--the draughtsmen who draw in black line, and the engravers who draw in white line--has worth just in proportion as they acquire the power to put intention into their lines and to express something by every stroke; and, other things being equal, he who conveys most meaning in the fewest lines, like Holbein and Bewick, is the greatest master. By means of such lines so arranged wood-engraving does represent form with great power, and also texture, which is only a finer form; it indicates positive hues, and, within limits, suggests the play of light and shadow on form and hue. It thus aims chiefly, in its bolder and more facile work, at force, spirit, and contrast, and, in its more rare and difficult efforts, at delicacy, finish, and nice gradation of harmonious tones.

If there is any value in the teaching of the past, either these principles must be shown to be no longer valid, or by them the engraving of the last ten years must be judged. A considerable portion of it consists of attempts to render original designs--for example, a washed drawing--not by interpreting its artistic qualities, its form, color, force, spirit, and manner, so far as these can be given by simple, defined, firm lines of the engraver's creation, but by imitating as closely as possible the original effect, and showing the character of the original process, whether it were water-color, charcoal-sketching, oil-painting, clay-modelling, or any other. However desirable it may be to make known the original process, such knowledge does not enhance the artistic value of the cut; and however pleasing it may be to the public to obtain copies even successfully, indicating the general effects, without the charm, of originals in other arts with which wood-engraving has little affinity, such work will rather satisfy curiosity than delight the eye. The public may thus derive information; they will not obtain works of artistic value at all equal to those which wood-engraving might give them, did it not abdicate its own peculiar power of expressing nature in a true, accurate, and beautiful way and descend to mechanical imitation. The application of the art to such purposes, as little more than another mode of photography, is a debas.e.m.e.nt of it; it ceases to be a fine art when it ceases to be practised for the sake of its own powers of beautiful expression. Such work, therefore, has only a secondary interest, as being one more process for the defective reproduction of beautiful things, and requires only a pa.s.sing mention.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 80.--"And silent were the sheep in woolly fold."--KEATS, _St. Agnes Eve_.

Engraved by J. G. Smithwick.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 81.--The Old Orchard. Engraved by F. Juengling.]

Aside from these imitative cuts, the most striking portion of recent engraving, that which has been hailed as opening a new career to the art, is characterized either by a great refinement of line or by a practical abandonment of line. Of the former tendency Mr. Henry Marsh affords the most prominent examples by his engravings in ill.u.s.tration of insect life, or similarly delicate work. The skill of his hand and the charm of the style he has adopted are beyond question; there is as little doubt of the truthfulness and beauty of the effects secured in the rendering of individual objects, the b.u.t.terfly wing, the pond-lily, or the spray of the winter forest; the only deduction to be made from his praise is, that when he binds these several objects into one picture, as in a landscape, he suffers the too frequent penalty of fine detail, and loses in the delicacy and finish of the parts the beauty that should have characterized the whole. There is always in his cuts grace, poetic feeling, exquisite workmanship, but there is in some of them a lack of body, substance, distance, of skill in placing the objects in a natural relation to one another, that mars the total result. Mr. Marsh is one of the older men, and deserves the credit of first showing what wood-engraving is capable of in refinement of line; but younger men have joined him in developing these capacities of the art, and have made work in this style more common. The best of it is by Mr. F. S. King, being equal in every quality to Mr. Marsh's most admirable cuts. Such engraving is exceptional, of course; but the evenness and transition of tone, the care for line, the discrimination of both line and color values, shown in these b.u.t.terflies (Fig. 77), are characteristic of Mr. King's work in general, although in some of it a lack of definition in outlines is noticeable. The refinement of line in these two engravers is justifiable, because they put meaning into the lines, and express by them something that could not otherwise be interpreted to the eye through this art; and so long as this remains the case they will meet with commendation and encouragement. It is only when such refinement is needlessly resorted to, or is confusing or meaningless, that it is rightly rebuked.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 82.--Some Art Connoisseurs. Engraved by Robert Hoskin.]

The second and more evil tendency of recent engraving, toward an abandonment of line, is exhibited in many phases, and by nearly all the younger men. In some cases the central portion of the cut seems alone to be cared for, and is much elaborated, while the surrounding parts fade off into the background with the uncertainty of a dissolving view; in other cases there seems to be entire indifference about form or texture: there is no definition of the one nor discrimination in the other, but an effect only is sought for, usually vague or startling, always unsatisfactory, and not infrequently ugly. Such work is the product of ignorance or carelessness or caprice. In it wood-engraving ceases to be an art of expression. These obscure ma.s.ses, meant for trees, in which one may look with a microscope and see neither leaf, limb, nor bark; these mottled grounds, meant for gra.s.s or houses, in which there is neither blade nor fibre; these blocks of formless tints, in which all the veracity of the landscape perishes, do not record natural facts, or convey thought or sentiment; they are simply vacant of meaning. To ill.u.s.trate or criticise such work would be an ungracious as well as a needless task; but even in the best work of the best engravers, with which alone these pages are concerned, the marks of tendency in this wrong direction are palpably present. Here, for example, is some charming work by Mr. King (Fig. 78), wholly successful in securing the effect sought--beautiful, well worth doing. The spirit of the season, the moist days, the April nature, the leafing and budding in mist and cloudiness, and gleam of light and breath of warm, soft air along full-flowing streams, the swift and buoyant welcome borne on the forward flight of the birds straight toward us, the ever-renewed marvel of the birth of life and the coming on of days of beauty--the feeling of all this is given, and the success is due in large part to the vagueness that dims the whole design; but why should the wreathing flowers, the tender crown of all, lose the curve of their petals and darken the delicate form of each young blossom, all blurred into the background, and half-effaced and marred, and tiring the eye with the effort to define them? If the value of form had been more felt, if the definition of outline had been firmer, if the spray had really blossomed, would not the design have been better? There is less doubt of the error in the next cut. The disappearance of texture and the attenuation of substance into flat shadow is very plain. To a true woodsman, to one who has lived with trees, and knows and loves them, there is little of their nature in these vague, transparent, insubstantial forms, that seem rather skeleton leaves than strong-limbed, firm-rooted trees that have sung in the frosty silence and lived through the "bitter cold" of many a St. Agnes Eve. Who, looking on these pale shadows, would remember that the same poet, whose verse is here put into picture, thought of trees as "senators" of the woods? In the disposition of the light of the atmosphere, in the management of the gray tints, particularly in the lower portion of the cut, the eye takes more pleasure: there is some discrimination between the sheep, the old man, and the fold--as much, perhaps, as the prevailing obscurity admits; but the cut as a whole is much harmed by the lack of relief, which seems to be a recurring fault in fine-lined and crowded work. The cut (Fig. 81) by Mr. Juengling, whose engravings exhibit the tendencies of the new methods in the most p.r.o.nounced way, shows, like the preceding ill.u.s.tration, an inattention to texture in the foliage, and an entire negligence of cloud-form in the sky, which is a fair example of the abandonment of line, or of meaningless line, as one chooses to call it. An effect is gained, a horizon light and shadowed ma.s.ses, but the landscape is not faithfully rendered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 83.--The Travelling Musicians. Engraved by R. A.

Muller.]

Of a different order are the two following cuts, simple, quiet, and refined. The mountain scene (page 183) is admirable for the disposition of its lights and shadows, the gradation and variation of its tints, and the subordination of every element to a truthful total effect. The cut by Mr. Hoskin (Fig. 82) is a good example of his always excellent work, showing his power of economy and his feeling for line and tone, while it evinces self-restraint in methods of work.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 84.--Shipwrecked. Engraved by Frank French.]

The change that has taken place in recent engraving has been less marked in cuts of landscape, however, than in cuts of figures. In the former line-arrangement has been affected somewhat, and usually for the worse, but in the latter the transformation has been greater, and the results already worked out of more striking novelty. The development, however, has been in the same directions, in refining or abandoning line, and examples exhibit the same or a.n.a.logous variation in the engravers'

regard for form and texture. The first group here given (Fig. 83) shows clearly, by the character and the direction of its lines, that it is a reproduction of copperplate-engraving, and as a piece of imitative work it is remarkable; the figures are life-like, full of vivacity and force, and the faces are natural and very expressive. It is, however, in the style of copperplate, and in the qualities mentioned it does not excel the next cut (Fig. 84), in which the character and direction of the lines are those peculiar to wood-engraving. The former has an appearance of more finish, as also of more hardness, but it does not by its more difficult mode of engraving, accomplish what is aimed at in any higher degree than does the latter by its simpler, easier, and freer manner.

The Tap-room (Fig. 85), by the same engraver, is less careful work, and its novel technical quality, while of the same general character as that of the last cut, is more p.r.o.nounced and less pleasing. The figures as a whole are good, but the faces are poor; the use of the cross white line or stipple for fire, ap.r.o.n, rafter, table-cloth, and face indifferently cannot be commended, and the character of many of the lines (particularly in the lower part of the seated figure) is beyond criticism. It is the still bolder and more general use of the peculiar modes of engraving in this design that results in the most meaningless, negligent scratchiness of the new school. Mr. J. P. Davis's "Going to Church" (Fig. 86) is a favorable example of another considerable cla.s.s of cuts that is on first sight novel and pleasing. On examination one sees that the figures are certainly the best part of the cut; but why should the maiden's dress be the same in texture as the cow's breast, and the young man's trousers the same as the cow's back? and why should the child's face be of a piece with its collar? Notice, too, beyond the wall the familiar flat and insubstantial trees, with their foliage that would serve as well for the ground at the foot of the steps.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 85.--The Tap-room. Engraved by Frank French.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 86.--Going to Church. Engraved by J. P. Davis.]

The best work in these figure-cuts, however, is by Mr. T. Cole, who stands at the head of engravers in the new manner, though he is not confined by it. The portraits, by which he first became widely known, were remarkable for an entire absence, in some cases, of any demarcation between picture and background, and for a concentration of attention upon some few specially characteristic features of the face. Whoever deserved the blame so liberally meted out to these heads, Mr. Cole's reputation rests now upon better work--upon such an exquisitely refined portrait as that of Modjeska as Juliet, in the Scribner Portfolio of Proofs, and other cuts of hardly less merit there to be found.

Frequently, however, there is noticeable in some of his best work an a.n.a.logous characteristic to that of the earlier portraits--the concentration of attention on the central figures, to the neglect of the minor portions of the designs. Thus in the example here given (Fig. 87), so long as the eye is concerned only with the two stately figures, there is only pleasure in such admirable workmanship; but when the gaze wanders to the near, and especially the remote, background, there is nothing to delight the lover of art or nature in such confusion, insubstantiality, flat, waving shadows without beauty or meaning. Who would guess from that obscure and formless net-work in the distance that the next line of these verses is--

"And all the sunset heaven behind your head?"

This "generalization" of the landscape, as it is called, empties it of all that makes it lovely. To the cut, as an example of figure-engraving, the highest praise may be given, but as an entire picture it is harmed by its imperfection of detail. To subordinate by destroying is not the mode of high art, but it is often the mode of the new school.

Of all the work of recent years, however, the best, it is generally admitted, is in the portraits, possibly because the artists are restrained by the definiteness of the form and expression to be conveyed. Mr. Cole's Modjeska has been already praised, though it is rather a fine figure than a fine portrait. A portrait of Mr. Hunt by Mr.

Linton, and of Mr. Fletcher Harper by Mr. Kruell, are also of high merit, and in both a very high level of excellence is sustained. The special character of the new school in portraiture, as a distinct and radical style, is ill.u.s.trated by Mr. Juengling's "Spanish Peasant" (Fig.

88). It recalls at once the portrait of Whistler by the same hand. In disposition of color, in certainty of effect, and in skill of execution, all must recognize the engraver's power; but is the value of the human face, in whose mouldings is expressed the life of years and generations--is the value of the human eye, in which the light never goes out, truly felt? One cannot help feeling that the brutalizing of this face is a matter rather of art than of truth. Contrast the two portraits here given (Figs. 89, 90), one in the bolder, more definite, larger style, admirable in its tones and discrimination of textures, among the very best in this manner; the other finer, with the tendency to fade into the background, but faultless in its rendering of the face, and proving by success the great effectiveness of the fine white cross-line.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 87.--

"Nay, Love, 'tis you who stand With almond cl.u.s.ters in your clasping hand."

Engraved by T. Cole.

These ill.u.s.trations of recent engraving are sufficiently numerous and various to offer a fair test of what has been done in different branches of the art. The capacity of any new school should be judged by the best it has produced; but, even in this best work, it is not difficult to discern at times the same tendencies that have been the main cause of failure in the less good work. The obscuration of leading outlines; the disregard of substance, shape, and material in leaf, cloud, and stuffs; the neglect of relief and perspective, the crowding of the ground with meaningless lines, either undirected or misdirected, or uselessly refined; the aim at an effect by an arrangement of color almost independent of form, the attempt to make a momentary impression on the eye, instead of to give lasting pleasure to the mind through the artistic sense, and--especially in the best work--the lack of perfect and masterly finish in all portions of the design, however insignificant by comparison with the leading parts--these must be counted as defects.

How much of such failure is due to the designer, it is impossible to determine without sight of the original drawings; a considerable portion of the fault may rest with him; in wood-engravings, as art-works, the union of designer and craftsman is inseparable--the two stand or fall together. But when all deductions have been made, the best engravers may rightly be very proud of their work, confident of their future, and hopeful of great things. With such perfect technical skill as they possess, with such form and texture as they have represented with care, truth, and beauty; with such softness of tone and power of both delicate and strong line as some of their number have earned the mastery of, the value of future work depends only on the wisdom of their aims.

If the fundamental grounds on which the foregoing criticism rests be true, these engravers have won success in so far as they have attended to form and texture as the main business of their art, and they have failed in so far as they have destroyed these. From its peculiar and original powers in the interpretation of form and texture by line-work, either black or white, wood-engraving has derived its value and earned the respect due it as an art, both through its great works in the past and, so far as yet appears, through its best works in the present.

Wood-engravers, if the design given them to reproduce is in black line, fit for engraving in wood, must copy it simply, and then, should artist-draughtsmen arise, the art in this manner will again produce works of permanent value as in the days of Holbein; if, on the other hand, the design given them is in color or washed tints, or anything of that sort, they must interpret it by lines of their own creation, and then, too, should any engraver-draughtsmen arise among them, the art will possess a similarly high value; but in no other way than by attending to these two kinds of line-work, separately or together, can wood-engraving remain artistic; and even then its success will depend on the knowledge and skill of the designer, whether artist or engraver, in the use and arrangement of the special lines which are best adapted to the art.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 88.--The Spanish Peasant. Engraved by F. Juengling.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 89.--James Russell Lowell. Engraved by Thomas Johnson.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 90.--Arthur Penrhyn Stanley. Engraved by G. Kruell.]

The history of wood-engraving, as it is recorded in the chief monuments of the art, has now been told from its beginning down to the present moment. Its historic and artistic value has been mainly dwelt upon, with the view of showing its utility as a democratic art and its powers as a fine art. It has had an ill.u.s.trious career. It has shared in the great social movements which transformed mediaeval into modern civilization. It entered into the popular life, in its earliest days, by representing the saints whom the people worshipped. It contributed to the cause of popular civilization in the spread of literature. It a.s.sisted the introduction of realism into art, and gave powerful aid in the gradual secularization of art. It lent itself to the Italian genius, and was able to preserve something of the loveliness of the Italian Renaissance. It helped the Reformation. It gave enduring form to the imagination and thought of Durer and Holbein. It fell into inevitable decline; but, when the development of democracy again began in the new age, it entered into the work of popular civilization with ever-increasing vigor and ever-widening influence. It seems still to possess unlimited capacities for usefulness in the future in both the intellectual and artistic education of the people. It may yet crown its career by making this country an art-loving as well as a book-reading Republic.

A LIST OF THE PRINc.i.p.aL WORKS

UPON

WOOD-ENGRAVING USEFUL TO STUDENTS.

ARCHIV fur die zeichnenden Kunste, mit besonderer Beziehung auf Kupfer-stecher-und Holzschneidekunst. Herausg. von R. Naumann.

1ter-16ter Jahrgang. Leipzig, 1855-'70. 8vo.

BARTSCH (ADAM). Le Peintre-Graveur. Vienne, 1803-'21. 21 T. 8vo; Atlas, 4to.

BECKER (C.). Jobst Amman, Zeichner und Formschneider, etc., nebst Zusatzen von R. Weigel. Leipzig, 1854. 4to.

BERJEAU (J. PH.). Biblia Pauperum. Reproduced in Facsimile from one of the copies in the British Museum, with an historical and bibliographical Introduction. London, 1859. Folio.

Speculum Humanae Salvationis. Le plus ancien Monument de la Xylographie et de la Typographic reunies. Reproduit en Facsimile, avec Introduction historique et bibliographique. Londres, 1861. Folio.

BERNARD (AUGUSTE). De l'Origine de l'Imprimerie. Paris, 1853. 2T. 8vo.

BIGMORE (E. C.) and WYMAN (C. W. H.). A Bibliography of Printing. With Notes and Ill.u.s.trations. [Vol. 1.] A-L. London, 1880. 4to.