cheapening of the manufacturing cost in printing is mainly
responsible. An illustration proper should always accompany text and
in days past the making of a book was so costly in itself that the
possibility of illustration was almost beyond thought. Only the
wealthy could afford illustrated books and as their reading was very
limited, naturally illustration was crowded to the wall. Those with
money to spend on pictures preferred decorations or portraits,
consequently the endeavors of artists were aimed at supplying what
suited the tastes of buyers. Illustration is and always has been the
art of the people. It makes clearer to the imagination their stories
and their songs, it mirrors their manner of life, interests, and
pursuits in a way that brightens what would otherwise often be
commonplace.

Art seems to entwine itself about the strongest figures in a
community, absorbing with its nourishment the ethical qualities of
the leader. Thus we have Michael Angelo in a community ruled by the
church, creating, at its demands, a "Day of Judgment," a "Magdalen at
the Cross," a "Moses," and Velasquez, evolving a marvellous technique
while immortalizing in wonderful portraits the vanity of his Spanish
lords.

So that at the present day, with the people in ascendency, what is
more probable than the perfect development of the art which most
appeals to their tastes? Every day, artists of the highest
intelligence find in illustration an opportunity to give the best that
is in them, and the chances that illustration will reach the heights
of perfection attained by other branches of art are exceedingly good.

The opportunities for an illustrator are without end, and the problems
are beyond number. It is a difficult performance to hand out, to
order, pictures in which human emotions stand counterfeited. In the
fact that illustration springs from and stands with the written tale
and must finally serve its proper place between board covers, the man
who labors at it finds some of his work already finished for him by
the author. But it is a saving that tantalizes more than it assists.

The technical equipment of the artist must twist into realistic
semblance, clear to the eye, the imaginary product of the author. He
must not add to it nor take away from it--even for the sake of beauty
in his picture--one iota of the facts given him. His imagination,
grasping all the ideas of the author, must assemble them and find a
place for each one,