ght have had outlines--first
thoughts--"etched thoughts," by Phidias himself. And, as the art of
design was earlier than any of those names--even coeval with, or prior
to, Homer himself--those who engraved and worked in metal their shields,
might have handed down to us etchings of Troy itself, and particulars of
the siege. Do we lose or gain by not having the ancient book of beauty?
But we must be content with what we have, and, in the regret, see the
value of the present, looking to future value. Etching, is still old
enough to interest by its portraiture of ages gone by. The inventor is
not known. Perhaps the earliest specimen is the well-known "Cannon" by
Albert Durer, dated 1518; and there is one by him, "Moses receiving the
Tables of the Law," dated 1524. The art was soon after practised by
Parmegiano, and extended to general use. Yet it is clear that the real
power and merit of etching was not known to the inventor, nor to those
who, in its early state, applied themselves to it. The first aim seems
to have been exact imitation of the graver. Le Bosse, in his treatise on
engraving, makes the perfection of the art consist in the close
similitude of the graver's work. It was this which at first cramped the
artist, and delayed the progress of etching, and gave it not only the
appearance, but the reality of inferiority--and often times the name and
reputation of inferiority is as prejudicial as the thing itself, and we
verily believe that it still has its effect upon the public taste.
Artists have not sufficiently taken to etching. We have had more
amateurs excel in it than professional artists. There was a collection
of amateur etchings at Strawberry Hill, given to Walpole by the etchers.
The greater part of them is excellent, though they are mostly copies
from other works, but not all. There are some surprising imitations of
Rembrandt. The best are by Lady Louisa Augusta Neville, afterwards Lady
Carlisle.

Then, again, the union of etching and engraving has certainly retarded
the art, and has given it another character. If that union has engrafted
freedom on engraving, it has given to the needle too much precision--it
has taken from it the working out effects. We have elsewhere noticed
that the taste for the precise and labored engraving in landscape,
introduced by Woollet, drove out from the field that which was very
superior to it. The prints from Claude and Poussin, by Vivares Wood,
Mason, and Chatelet, and publis