A TREATISE ON ETCHING.

“Amongst Frenchmen Claude is the best landscape etcher of past days, and Lalanne
the best of the present day.”— P. G. Hamerton.

A TREATISE

ON

ETCHING.

TEXT AND PLATES

BY

MAXIME LALANNE.

AUTHORIZED EDITION, TRANSLATED FROM THE SECOND FRENCH EDITION

BY

S. R. KOEHLER.

WITH AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER AND NOTES BY THE TRANSLATOR.

BOSTON:
ESTES AND LAURIAT,
Publishers.

Copyright, By Estes and Lauriat. 1880.

University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

So much interest has of late years been shown in England in the art of etching, that it seems hardly necessary to apologize for bringing out an English edition of a work on the subject from the pen of an artist whom a weighty English authority has pronounced to be the best French landscape-etcher of the day. It might be urged, indeed, that more than enough has already been written concerning the technical as well as the æsthetic side of etching. But this objection is sufficiently met by the statement of the fact that there is no other work of the kind in which the processes involved are described in so plain and lucid a manner as in M. Lalanne's admirable “Traité de la Gravure à l'Eau-forte.” In the laudable endeavor to be complete, most of the similar books now extant err in loading down the subject with a complicated mass of detail which is more apt to frighten the beginner than to aid him. M. Lalanne's Treatise, on the contrary, is as simple as a good work of art.

It may, however, be incumbent upon me to offer a few words of excuse concerning my own connection with the bringing out of this translation; for, at first sight, it will, no doubt, appear the height of presumption, especially on the part of one who is not himself a practising artist, to add an introductory chapter and notes to the work of a consummate master on his favorite art. But what I have done has not, in any way, been dictated by the spirit of presumption. The reasons which induced me to make the additions may be stated as follows.

It is a most difficult feat for one who has thoroughly mastered an accomplishment, and has practised it successfully for a lifetime, to lower himself to the level of those who are absolutely uninformed. A master is apt to forget that he himself had to learn certain things which, to him, seem to be self-evident, and he therefore takes it for granted that they are self-evident. A practised etcher thinks nothing of handling his acid, grounding and smoking his plate, and all the other little tricks of the craft which, to a beginner, are quite worrying and exciting. It seemed to me best, therefore, to acquaint the student with these purely technical difficulties, without complicating his first attempts by artistic considerations, and hence the origin of the “Introductory Chapter.” Very naturally I was compelled, in this chapter, to go over much of the ground covered by the Treatise itself. But the diligent student, who remembers that “Repetition is the mother of learning,” will not look upon the time thus occupied as wasted.

The notes are, perhaps, still more easily explained. M. Lalanne very rarely stops to inform his reader how the various requisites may be made. Writing, as he did, at and for Paris, there was, indeed, no reason for thus encumbering his book; for in Paris the Veuve Cadart is always ready to supply all the wants of the etcher. For a London reader, Mr. Charles Roberson, of 99 Long Acre, whom Mr. Hamerton has so well—and very properly—advertised, is ready to perform the same kind office. But for those who live away from the great centres of society, it may oftentimes be necessary either to forego the fascinations of etching, or else to provide the materials with their own hands. For the benefit of such persons, I have thought it advisable to describe, in the notes, the simplest and cheapest methods of making the tools and utensils which are needed in the execution of M. Lalanne's precepts.

By the arrangement of the paragraphs which I have ventured to introduce, M. Lalanne's pleasant little book has, perhaps, lost something of its vivacity and freshness, especially in the fifth chapter. But this dull, methodical order will be found, I hope, to add to the convenience of the work as a book of reference, which, according to M. Lalanne's own statement, is, after all, its main object.

It is due to the English public to say, that the additions were originally written for the American edition of this book, published by Messrs. Estes & Lauriat, of Boston, Mass. To free them from the American character which they very naturally bear, would have necessitated the resetting of a great part of the work, and a consequent increase in its cost. It has been deemed advisable, therefore, to leave the whole of the text in its original condition, more especially as the changes are such that they can easily be supplied by the reader, and do not in the least affect the value of the information conveyed.

S. R. KOEHLER.

Beech Glen Avenue, Roxbury, Boston,
July, 1880.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

THE TECHNICAL ELEMENTS OF ETCHING.

As explained in the Preface, this chapter has been added to enable the beginner to master the most necessary technical elements of etching, without complicating his first attempts by artistic considerations. Let him learn how to use his ground, his points, and his acid, before he endeavors to employ these requisites in the production of a work of art.

All the materials and tools necessary for making the experiment described below can be bought at the following places:[A]—

New York: Henry Leidel, Artist's Materials, 341 Fourth Avenue.
Philadelphia: Janentzky & Co., Artist's Materials, 1125 Chestnut Street.
Boston: J. H. Daniels, Printer, 223 Washington Street.

But any one living within reach of a druggist, a paint-shop, and a hardware-store can do just as well with the exercise of a little patience and a very little ingenuity. For the benefit of such persons all the necessary directions will be given for making what it may be impossible to buy.

[A] In London, Mr. Hamerton recommends Mr. Charles Roberson, 99 Long Acre.

1. Definition of Etching.—To be able to get an impression on paper from a metal plate in a copper-plate printing-press, it is necessary to sink the lines of the design below the surface of the plate, so that each line is represented by a furrow. The plate is then inked all over, care being taken to fill each furrow, and finally the ink is cautiously wiped away from the surface, while the furrows are left charged with it. A piece of moist paper pressed against a plate so prepared, will take the ink up out of the furrows. The result is an impression. In engraving proper these furrows are cut into the plate by mechanical means; in etching chemical means are used for the same purpose. If nitric acid is brought into contact with copper, the acid corrodes the metal and finally eats it up altogether; if it is brought into contact with wax or resinous substances, no action ensues. Hence, if we cover a copper plate with a ground or varnish composed of wax and resinous substances, and then draw lines upon this ground with a steel or iron style or point, so that each stroke of the point lays bare the copper, we shall have a drawing in lines of copper (which are affected by nitric acid) on a ground of varnish (which is not thus affected). If now we expose the plate to the action of nitric acid for a certain length of time, we shall find, upon the removal of the ground by means of benzine, that the lines have been bitten into the plate, so that each line forms a furrow capable of taking up the ink. The depth and the breadth of the lines depends upon the thickness of the points used, and upon the length of time allowed for biting; or, in other words, by varying the size of the points and the time of exposure the lines may also be made to vary. This is the whole of the science of etching in a nutshell.

2. Requisites.—The following tools and materials are the only ones which are absolutely necessary for a first experiment:—

1. A Copper Plate on which to execute your etching. Do not waste your money on a large plate. A visiting-card plate is sufficiently large. If you happen to have an engraved plate of that kind, you can use the back of it. If you have none, get one at a card-engraver's. The price ought not to be over fifteen cents. If you do not live in any of the large cities named above, or cannot find a card-engraver, send fifteen cents in stamps to Mr. Geo. B. Sharp, 45 Gold St., New York, N. Y., who will forward a plate to you by mail. Be very particular in giving your full and correct post-office address. These plates only need cleaning to fit them for use.

2. Benzine, used for cleaning the plate, sold by grocers or druggists at about five cents a pint for common quality.

3. Whiting or Spanish White, also for cleaning the plate. A very small quantity will do.

4. Clean Cotton Rags.—Some pieces of soft old shirting are just the thing.

5. Etching-Ground, with which to protect the plate against the action of the acid. This ground is sold in balls about the size of a walnut. If you do not live in a city where you can buy the ground, you may as well make it yourself. Here is a recipe for a very cheap and at the same time very good ground. It is the ground used by Mr. Peter Moran, one of the most experienced of our American etchers. Buy at a drug-shop (not an apothecary's) or painter's supply-store:—

Two ounces best natural asphaltum (also called Egyptian asphaltum), worth about ten cents.

One and a half ounces best white virgin wax, worth about six cents.

One ounce Burgundy pitch, worth say five cents.

Break the wax into small pieces, and reduce the Burgundy pitch to fine powder in a mortar, or have it powdered at the drug-shop. Take a clean earthenware pot glazed on the inside, with a handle to it (in Boston you can buy one for fifteen cents at G. A. Miller & Co.'s, 101 Shawmut Avenue), and in this pot melt your asphaltum over a slow fire, taking very good care not to let it boil over, or otherwise you might possibly set the house afire. When the asphaltum has melted add the wax gradually, stirring all the while with a clean glass or metal rod. Then add the Burgundy pitch in the same way. Keep stirring the fluid mass, and let it boil up two or three times, always taking care to prevent boiling over! Then pour the whole into a pan full of tepid water, and while it is still soft and pliant, form into balls of the required size, working all the while under the water. If you touch the mass while it is still too hot, you may possibly burn your fingers, but a true enthusiast does not care for such small things. You will thus get about eight or nine balls of very good ground at an outlay of about thirty-six cents in cash, and some little time. Nearly all recipes order the wax to be melted first, but as the asphaltum requires a greater heat to reduce it to a fluid condition, it is best to commence with the least tractable substance. For use, wrap a ball of the ground in a piece of fine and close silk (taffeta), and tie this together with a string.

6. Means of heating the Plate.—Any source of heat emitting no smoke will do, such as a kitchen stove, a spirit lamp, or a small quantity of alcohol poured on a plate and ignited (when the time arrives).

7. A Hand Vice with a wooden handle, for holding the plate while heating it; price about seventy-five cents at the hardware-stores. But a small monkey-wrench will do as well, and for this experiment you can even get along with a pair of pincers.

8. A Dabber for laying the ground on the plate. Cut a piece of stout card-board, two or three inches in diameter; on this lay a bunch of horse-hair, freed from all dust, and over this again some cotton wool. Cover the whole with one or two pieces of clean taffeta (a clean piece of an old silk dress will do), draw them together tightly over the card-board, and tie with a string. When finished the thing will look something like a lady's toilet-ball. The horse-hair is not absolutely necessary, and may be omitted.

9. Means of Smoking the Ground.—The ground when laid on the plate with the dabber, is quite transparent and allows the glitter of the metal to shine through. To obtain a better working surface the ground is blackened by smoking it. For this purpose the thin wax-tapers known to Germans as “Wachsstock,” generally sold at German toy-stores, are the best. They come in balls. Cut the tapers into lengths, and twist six of them together. In default of these tapers, roll a piece of cotton cloth into a roll about as thick and as long as your middle finger, and soak one end of it in common lamp or sperm oil.

10. Stopping-out Varnish, used for protecting the back and the edges of the plate, and for “stopping out,” of which more hereafter. If you cannot buy it you can make it by dissolving an ounce of asphaltum, the same as that used for the ground, in about an ounce and a half of spirits of turpentine. Add the asphaltum to the turpentine little by little; shake the bottle containing the mixture frequently; keep it in the sun or a moderately warm place. The operation will require several days. The solution when finished should be of the consistency of thick honey.

11. Camel's-Hair Brushes, two or three of different sizes, for laying on the stopping-out varnish, and for other purposes.

12. Etching Points or Needles, for scratching the lines into the ground. Rat-tail files of good quality, costing about twenty cents each at the hardware-stores, are excellent for the purpose. Two are all you need for your experiment, and even one will be sufficient. Still cheaper points can be made of sewing, knitting, or any other kind of needles, mounted in sticks of wood like the lead of a lead-pencil. Use glue or sealing-wax to fasten them in the wood.

13. An Oil-Stone for grinding the points.

14. An Etching-Tray to hold the acid during the operation of biting. Trays are made of glass, porcelain, or india-rubber, and can generally be had at the photographer's supply-stores. A small india-rubber tray, large enough for your experiment, measuring four by five inches, costs fifty-five cents. But you can make an excellent tray yourself of paper. Make a box, of the required size and about one and a half inches high, of pasteboard, covered over by several layers of strong paper, well glued on. If you can manage to make a lip or spout in one of the corners, so much the better. After the glue has well dried pour stopping-out varnish into the box, and float it all over the bottom and the sides; pour the residue of the varnish back into your bottle, and allow the varnish in the box to dry; then paint the outside of the box with the same varnish. Repeat this process three or four times. Such a tray, with an occasional fresh coating of varnish, will last forever. For your experiment, however, any small porcelain (not earthenware) or glass dish will do, if it is only large enough to hold your plate, and allow the acid to stand over it to the height of about half an inch.

15. A Plate-Lifter, to lift your plate into and out of the bath without soiling your fingers. It consists of two pieces of string, each say twelve to fifteen inches long, tied to two cross-pieces of wood, each about six inches long, thus

. It is well to keep the fingers out of the acid, as it causes yellow spots on the skin, which remain till they wear off.

16. Nitric Acid for biting in the lines. Any nitric acid sold by druggists will do, but the best is the so-called chemically pure nitric acid made by Messrs. Powers & Weightman, of Philadelphia. It comes put up in glass-stoppered bottles, the smallest of which hold one pound, and sell for about sixty cents.

17. Water for mixing with the acid and for washing the plate.

18. Blotting-Paper, soft and thick, several sheets, to dry the plate, as will be seen hereafter.

19. Spirits of Hartshorn or Volatile Alkali.—This is not needed for etching, but it is well to have it at hand, in case you should spatter your clothes with acid. Spots produced by the acid can generally be removed by rubbing with the alkali, which neutralizes the acid.

3. Grounding the Plate.—Having procured all these requisites, the first thing to do will be to clean the plate so as to remove any oil or other impurities that may have been left on it by the plate-maker. Wash and rub it well on both sides with a soft cotton rag and benzine, and then rub with whiting, as you would do if you were to clean a door-plate. Take care to remove all the whiting with a clean rag. Now take hold of your plate by one of its corners with the hand-vice, wrench, or pincers, between the jaws of which you have put a bit of card-board or stout paper, so as not to mark the plate. Hold it over the stove, spirit lamp, or ignited alcohol, and see to it that it is heated evenly throughout. Hold the plate in your left hand while heating it, and with the other press against it the ball of ground wrapped up in silk. As soon as you see the ground melting through the silk, distribute it over the plate by rubbing the ball all over its surface (the polished surface, as a matter of course), taking care the while that the plate remains just hot enough to melt the ground. If it is too hot, the ground will commence to boil and will finally burn. The bubbles caused by boiling are liable to leave air-holes in the ground through which the acid may bite little holes in the plate; burning ruins the ground altogether, so that it loses its power of withstanding the acid. After you have distributed the ground tolerably evenly, and in a thin layer, lay the plate down on the table (keeping hold of it, however, by the corner), and finish the distribution of the ground by dabbing with the dabber. Strike the plate quickly and with some force at first, and treat it more gently as the ground begins to cool. If it should have cooled too much, before the distribution is accomplished to your satisfaction, in which case the dabber will draw threads, heat the plate gently. The dabber not only equalizes the distribution of the varnish, but also removes what is superfluous. An extremely thin layer of ground is sufficient.

4. Smoking the Plate.—While the plate is yet hot, and the ground soft, it must be smoked. Light your tapers or your oil torch, and turn the plate upside down. Allow the flame just to touch the plate, and keep moving it about rapidly, so that it may touch all points of the plate, without remaining long at any one of them. If this precaution is ignored, the ground will be burned, with the result before stated. The smoking is finished as soon as the plate is uniformly blackened all over, and the glimmer of the metal can no longer be seen through the ground. Now allow the plate to cool so that the ground may harden. Avoid dust as much as possible while grounding and smoking the plate. Particles of dust embedded in the ground may cause holes which will admit the acid where you do not wish it to act.

5. Points or Needles.—The plate is now ready for drawing upon it, but before you can proceed to draw you must prepare your points or needles. Two will do for this first experiment, a fine one and a coarse one. For the fine one you may use a sewing-needle, for the coarser one a medium embroidery needle, both set in wood so that the points project about a quarter of an inch. If you are going to use rat-tail files, grind the handle-ends on your oil-stone until they attain the requisite fineness. Hold the file flat on the stone, so as to get a gradually tapering point, and turn continually. See to it that even the point of your finest needle is not too sharp. If it scratches when you draw it lightly over a piece of card-board, describe circles with it on the board until it simply makes a mark without scratching. The coarse needle must be evenly rounded, as otherwise it may have a cutting point somewhere.

Pl. A.

6. Drawing on the Plate.—As the purpose of your experiment is simply to familiarize yourself with the technicalities of etching, that is to say, with the preparation of the plate, the management of the points, and the action of the acid, it will be well to confine yourself to the drawing of lines something like those on [Pl. A.] It is the office of the point simply to remove the ground, and lay bare the copper. But this it must do thoroughly, for the slightest covering left on the plate will prevent the acid from attacking the copper. You must therefore use sufficient pressure to accomplish this end, but at the same time you must avoid cutting into the copper by using too much pressure. Wherever the point has cut the copper the acid acts more rapidly, as the polished coating of the surface of the plate has been removed. It is evident from this that an even pressure is necessary to produce an evenly bitten line. Do not touch the ground with your hands while drawing. Rest your hand on three or four thicknesses of soft blotting-paper. When you desire to shift the paper, lift it, and never draw it over the ground. Hold the point, not slantingly like a pencil, but as near as possible perpendicularly. The point is a hard instrument, with which you cannot produce a swelling line, as with a pencil or a pen. Therefore your only aim must be an even line, produced by even pressure. The minute threads of ground thrown up by the point you must remove with your largest camel's-hair brush; otherwise they may clog your lines. Before commencing to draw read the description of Pl. A given under the heading “[Description of Plates].”

7. Preparing the Plate for the Bath.—If you were to put the plate into the acid bath in the state in which it is at present, the acid would corrode the unprotected parts. To prevent this paint the back, and the corner by which you held the plate while grounding it, and the edges with stopping-out varnish. If you are not in a hurry (and it is always best not to be in a hurry), let the varnish dry over night; if you cannot wait so long an hour will be sufficient for drying. While the plate is drying you may lay it, face downward, on a little pile of soft paper, made up of pieces smaller than the plate, so that the paper may not touch the varnished edges.

8. The Bath.—The preparation of the bath is next in order. Ascertain the capacity of the dish or tray you are going to use by pouring water into it to fill it to half its height, and then measuring the water. Pour one half of this quantity of water back into the tray, and add to it the same quantity of nitric acid, stirring the mixture well with a glass rod, or a bit of glass, or a bird's feather, if you happen to have one, or in default of all these with a bit of stick. The mixing of water and acid induces chemical action, and this produces heat. The bath must therefore be allowed to cool half an hour or so, before the plate is put into it. Nitric acid being a corrosive and poisonous fluid, it is well to use some care in handling it. Otherwise it may bite holes into your clothing, and disfigure your hands, as before noted. By the side of your bath have a large vessel filled with clean water, in which to wash the plate when it is withdrawn from the bath, and your fingers in case you should soil them with acid.

9. Biting and Stopping Out.—The bath having been prepared, and the varnish on the back and edges of the plate having dried sufficiently, lay the plate on the plate-lifter, face upward, and lift it into the bath. In a few minutes, in hot weather in a few seconds, the acid will begin to act on the copper. This is made evident to the eye by the bubbles which collect in the lines, and to the nose by the fumes of nitrous acid which the bath exhales. The bubbles must be removed by gently brushing them out of the lines with a brush or the vane of a feather; the fumes it is best not to inhale, as they irritate the throat. After the biting has gone on for three minutes in warm, or for five minutes in cold weather, lift the plate out of the bath into the vessel filled with water. Having washed it well, so as to remove all traces of the acid, lay it on a piece of blotting-paper, and take up the moisture from the face by gently pressing another piece of the same paper against it. Then fan the plate for some minutes to make sure that it is absolutely dry. If you have a pair of bellows you may dispense with the blotting-paper as well as with the fanning. The lines on the plate, having all bitten for the same length of time, are now all of about the same depth, and if the plate were cleaned and an impression taken from it, they would all appear of about the same strength, the only difference being that produced by difference in spacing and in the size of the needles. This is the point where the stopping-out varnish comes in. With a fine camel's-hair brush stop out, that is to say, paint over with stopping-out varnish, those lines or parts of lines which are to remain as they are. If the varnish should be too thick to flow easily from the brush, mix a small quantity of it in a paint saucer, or on a porcelain slab, or a piece of glass, with a few drops of benzine. The varnish, however, must not be too thin, as in that case it will run in the lines, and will fill them where you do not wish them to be filled. If it is of the right consistency, you can draw a clean and sharp line across the etched lines without danger of running. When you have laid on your stopping-out varnish, fan it for some minutes until it has dried sufficiently not to adhere to the finger when lightly touched. Then introduce the plate into the bath again, and let the biting continue another five minutes. Remove again, stop out as before, and continue these operations as often as you wish. But it would be useless to let your accumulated bitings on this experimental plate exceed more than thirty minutes. Having finished your last biting, clean the plate with benzine. Then apply the same process to your hands, and follow it up with a vigorous application of soap and nail-brush. This will leave your hands as beautiful as they were before.

It is hardly worth while to bother with taking an impression from this trial plate, unless you happen to have a printer near by. The plate itself will show you how the acid has enlarged the lines at each successive biting, and it stands to reason that the broader and deeper lines should give a darker impression than the finer and shallower ones. If, however, you have no printer at hand, and still desire to see how your work looks in black and white, you may consult the chapter on “Proving and Printing,” [p. 55] of M. Lalanne's “Treatise.”

You have now gained some idea of the theory of etching, have acquainted yourself with the use of tools and materials, and have mastered the most elementary technical difficulties of the process. You are therefore in a position to profit by the teachings of M. Lalanne which follow.

In conclusion, let me assure you that the home-made appliances described in the foregoing paragraphs are quite sufficient, technically, for the purposes of the etcher. Plate B, Mr. Walter F. Lansil's first essay in etching, was executed according to the directions here given, and the artist has kindly consented to let me use it for the special purpose of illustrating this point.

Pl. B.

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES.

[Plate A.] A Trial Plate. This plate is given to show the effect of difference in length of biting. The lines in the eight upper rectangles were all drawn before the first immersion of the plate, those on the left with a fine point, those on the right with a somewhat coarser one. After the plate had been in the bath for three minutes, it was withdrawn, and the upper rectangle on the left stopped out. The upper rectangle on the right, however, had hardly been attacked by the acid, as the lines had been drawn with a blunter point, which had not scratched the copper, while the fine point had. It was therefore allowed to bite another three minutes before it was stopped out. The other rectangles were allowed to bite ten, twenty, and thirty minutes respectively, by which means the difference in value was produced. The figures a, b, c perhaps show the results of partial biting still better. The three were simply lined with the same point. After the first biting they all looked like a. This was then stopped out, together with the corners of b and c. After the second biting b and c were both as b now is. The whole of b was now stopped out, and part of c, allowing only the inner lozenge to remain exposed to the acid. It is evident that the difference in color in these figures is not due to the drawing, but is entirely the result of biting.

[Plate B.] Vessels in Boston Harbor. A first essay in etching by Mr. Walter F. Lansil, marine painter, of Boston. The artist has kindly given me permission to use this plate, for the purpose of showing that the home-made tools and materials described in the Introductory Chapter are quite sufficient for all the technical purposes of the etcher. It is eminently “home-made.” The ground was prepared according to the recipe given; the points used were a sewing-needle and a knitting-needle; the tray in which it was etched was made of paper covered with stopping-out varnish; even the plate (a zink plate by the way) did not come from the plate-maker, but was ground and polished at home.

[Plate I ^a.] Etching after Claude Lorrain. Unfinished plate, or “first state” (see [pp. 23] and [29]). This, however, is not the etching itself; it is a photo-engraving from the unfinished etching. But it does well enough to show the imperfections alluded to by M. Lalanne in the text.

[Plate I.] Etching after Claude Lorrain. Finished plate, or “second state” (see [pp. 36] and [56]). Clean wiped.

[Plate II.] Etching after Claude Lorrain. Printed from the same plate as Pl. I, but treated as described on [p. 57]. The difference between the two plates shows what the art of the printer can do for an etching. The difference would be still greater if Pl. II. were better printed; for it is not printed as well as it might be, although it was done in Paris.

[Plate III.] À plat, une pointe—flat biting, drawn with one point; that is to say, the plate was immersed only once, and the lines are all the result of the same needle, so that the effect is only produced by placing the lines close together in the foreground, and farther apart as the distance recedes (see [p. 43]). À plat, plusieurs pointes—flat biting, several points, that is to say, one immersion only, but the work of finer and coarser points is intermingled in the drawing. Par couvertures, plusieurs pointes—stopping out and the work of several points combined.

[Plate IV.] Fig. 1. See [p. 27]. Fig. 2. See [p. 45]. Figs. 3, 4 and 5. See [p. 46.]

[Plate V.] Fig. 1. Worked with one point; effect produced by stopping out (see [p. 44]). Fig. 2. Mottled tint in the building, &c., in the foreground; stopping out before biting, in the sky (see [p. 51]).

[Plate VI.] Soft-ground etchings. See [p. 52].

[Plate VII.] Dry-point etching. See [p. 53].

[Plate VIII.] À Seville. A sketch, given as a specimen of printing (see [p. 58]).

[Plate IX.] À Anvers. Le Waag, Amsterdam. Sketches from nature, to serve as examples.

[Plate X.] (Frontispiece). Souvenir de Bordeaux. To be consulted in regard to the manner of using the points and partial bitings.

MY DEAR MONSIEUR LALANNE,[B]

If there is any one living who can write about Etching, it must certainly be you, as you possess all the secrets of the art, and are versed in all its refinements, its resources, and its effects. Nevertheless, when I was told that you intended to publish a book on the subject, I feared that you were about to attempt the impossible; for it seemed as if Abraham Bosse had exhausted the theme two hundred years ago, and that you would be condemned to repeat all that this excellent man had said in his treatise, in which, with charming naïveté, he teaches the art of engraving to perfection.

I must confess, however, that the reading of your manuscript very quickly undeceived me. I find in it numberless useful and interesting things not to be found anywhere else, and I comprehend that Abraham Bosse wrote for those who know, while you write for those who do not know.

I was quite young, and had just left college, when accident threw into my hands the Traité des manières de graver en taille douce sur l'airain par le moyen des eaux fortes et des vernis durs et mols. Perhaps I might have paid no attention to this book, if I had not previously noticed on the stands on the Quai Voltaire some etchings by Rembrandt, which had opened to me an entirely new world of poetry and of dreams. These prints had taken such hold upon my imagination that I desired to learn, from Bosse's “Treatise,” how the Dutch painter had managed to produce his strange and startling effects and his mysterious tones, the fantastic play of his lights and the silence of his shadows. Rembrandt's etchings on the one hand, and Bosse's book on the other, were the causes of my resolution to learn the art of engraving, and of my subsequent entry into the studio of Calamatta and Mercuri.

As soon as I knew how to hold the burin and the point, these grave and illustrious masters placed before me an allegorical figure engraved by Edelinck, whose drapery was executed in waving and winding lines, incomparable in their correctness and beauty. To break my hand to the work, it was necessary to copy on my plate these solemnly classical and majestically disposed lines. But while I cut into the copper with restrained impatience, my attention was secretly turned towards Rembrandt's celebrated portrait of Janus Lutma, a good impression of which I owned, and which I thought of copying.

To make my début in this severe school—in which we were allowed to admire only Marc Antonio, the Ghisis, the Audrans, and Nanteuil—with an etching by Rembrandt, would have been a heresy of the worst sort. Hence to be able to risk this infraction of discipline, I took very good care to keep my project to myself. Secretly I bought ground, wax, and a plate, and profited of the absence of my teachers to attempt, with fevered hands, to make a fac-simile of the Lutma. I had followed the instructions of Abraham Bosse with regard to the ground, and I proceeded to bite in my plate with the assistance of a comrade, Charles Nördlinger, at present engraver to the king of Wurtemburg, at Stuttgart, whom I had admitted as my accomplice in this delightful expedition.

You may well imagine, my dear Monsieur Lalanne, that I met with all sorts of accidents, such as are likely to befall a novice, and all of which you describe so carefully, while at the same time you indicate fully and lucidly the remedies that may be applied. The ground cracked in several places,—happily in the dark parts. My wax border had been hastily constructed, and I did not know then, although Bosse says so, that it is the rule to pass a heated key along the lower line of the border, so as to melt the wax, and thus render all escape impossible. Consequently the acid filtered through under the wax, and in trying to arrest the flow, I burned my fingers. Furthermore, when it came to the biting in of the shadows in the portrait of Lutma, the greenish and then whitish ebullition produced by the long-continued biting so frightened me, that I hastened to empty the acid into a pail, not, however, without having spattered a few drops on a proof of the Vow of Louis XIII., which had been scratched in the printing, and which we were about to repair. At last I removed the ground, and, trembling all over, went to have a proof taken, but not to the printer regularly employed by Calamatta.

What a disappointment! I believed my etching to have been sufficiently, nay, even over-bitten, and in reality I had stopped half-way. The color of the copper had deceived me. I had seen my portrait on the fine red ground of the metal, and now I saw it on the crude white of the paper. I hardly knew it again. It lacked the profundity, the mystery, the harmony in the shadows, which were precisely what I had striven for. The plate was only roughly cut up by lines crossing in all directions, through the network of which shone the ground which Rembrandt had subdued, so as to give all the more brilliancy to the window with its leaded panes, to the lights in the foreground, and to the cheek of the pensive head of Lutma. As luck would have it, all the light part in the upper half of the print came out pretty well; the expression of the face was satisfactory, and the grimaces of the two small heads of monsters which surmount the back of the chair were perfectly imitated. I had to strengthen the shadows by means of the roulette, and to go over the most prominent folds of the coat with the graver; for I had not the knowledge necessary to enable me to undertake a second biting. Bosse says a few words on this subject, which, as they are wanting in clearness, are apt to lead a beginner into error. He speaks of smoked ground, while, as you have so admirably shown, white ground must be used for retouching. I therefore finished my plate by patching and cross-hatching and stippling, and finally obtained a passable copy, which, at a little distance, looked something like the original, although, to a practised eye, it was really nothing but a very rude imitation. It is needless to say that we carefully obliterated all evidence of our proceedings, and that, my teachers having returned, I went to work again, with hypocritical compunction, upon what I called the military lines of Gerard Edelinck. But we were betrayed by some incautious words of the chamber-woman, and M. Calamatta, having discovered “the rose-pot,” scolded Charles Nördlinger and myself roundly for this romantic escapade. If my plate had been worse,——the good Lord only knows what might have happened!

All this, my dear M. Lalanne, is simply intended to show to you how greatly I esteem the excellent advice which you give to the young etcher, or aqua-fortiste (as the phrase goes now-a-days, according to a neologism which is hardly less barbaric than the word artistic). When I recall the efforts of my youth, the ardor with which I deceived myself, the hot haste with which I fell into the very errors which you point out, I understand that your book is an absolute necessity; and that the artist or the amateur, who, hidden away in some obscure province, desires to enjoy the agreeable pastime of etching, need only follow, step by step, the intelligent and methodical order of your precepts, to be enabled to carry the most complicated plate to a satisfactory end, whether he chooses to employ the soft ground used by Decamps, Masson, and Marvy, or whether he confines himself to the ordinary processes which you make sensible even to the touch with a lucidity, a familiarity with details, and a certainty of judgment, not to be sufficiently commended.

Having read your “Treatise,” I admit, not only that you have surpassed your worthy predecessor, Abraham Bosse, but that you have absolutely superseded his book by making your own indispensable. If only the amateurs, whose time hangs heavily upon them; if the artists, who wish to fix a fleeting impression; if the rich, who are sated with the pleasures of photography,—had an idea of the great charm inherent in etching, your little work would have a marvellous success! Even our elegant ladies and literary women, tired of their do-nothing lives and their nick-nacks, might find a relaxation full of attractions in the art of drawing on the ground and biting-in their passing fancies. Madame de Pompadour, when she had ceased to govern, although she continued to reign, took upon herself a colossal enterprise,—to amuse the king and to divert herself. You know the sixty-three pieces executed by this charming engraver (note, if you please, that I do not say engraveress!). Her etchings after Eisen and Boucher are exquisite. The pulsation of life, the fulness of the carnations, are expressed in them by delicately trembling lines; and I do think that Madame de Pompadour could not have done better, even if she had been your pupil.

At present, moreover, etching has, in some measure, become the fashion again as a substitute for lithography, an art which developed charm as well as strength under the crayon of Charlet, of Géricault, of Gigoux, and of Gavarni. The Société des Aqua-fortistes is the fruit of this renaissance. The art, which, in our own day, has been rendered illustrious by the inimitable Jacque, now has its adepts in all countries, and in all imaginable spheres of society. Etchings come to us from all points of the compass: the Hague sends those of M. Cornet, conservator of the Museum; Poland, those which form the interesting album of M. Bronislas Zaleski, the Life of the Kirghise Steppes; London, those of M. Seymour Haden, so original and full of life, and so well described in the catalogue of our friend Burty; Lisbon, those of King Ferdinand of Portugal, who etches as Grandville drew, but with more suppleness and freedom. But after all Paris is the place where the best etchings appear, more especially in the Gazette des Beaux-Arts, and in the publications of the Société des Aqua-fortistes. Do you desire to press this capricious process into your service for the translation of the old or modern masters? Hédouin, Flameng, Bracquemont, will do wonders for you. You have told me yourself that, in my Œuvre de Rembrandt, Flameng has so well imitated this great man, that he himself would be deceived if he should come to life again. As to Jules Jacquemart, he is perfectly unique of his kind; he compels etching to say what it never before was able to say. With the point of his needle he expresses the density of porphyry; the coldness of porcelain; the insinuating surface of Chinese lacquer; the transparent and imponderable finesse of Venetian glassware; the reliefs and the chased lines of the most delicate works of the goldsmith, almost imperceptible in their slightness; the polish of iron and steel; the glitter, the reflections, and even the sonority of bronze; the color of silver and of gold, as well as all the lustre of the diamond and all the appreciable shades of the emerald, the turquoise, and the ruby. I shall not speak of you, my dear monsieur, nor of your etchings, in which the style of Claude is so well united to the grace of Karel Dujardin. You preach by practising; and if one had only seen the plates with which you have illustrated your excellent lessons, one would recognize not only the instructor but the master. Hence, be without fear or hesitation; put forth confidently your little book; it is just in time to help regenerate the art of etching, and to direct its renaissance. For these reasons—mark my prediction!—its success will be brilliant and lasting.

CHARLES BLANC.

[B] This letter preceded also the first edition of 1866.

INTRODUCTION.

Since the year 1866, when the first edition of this treatise appeared, the art of etching, which was then in full course of regeneration, has gained considerably in extent. The tendencies of modern art must necessarily favor the soaring flight of this method of engraving, which has been left in oblivion quite too long. It remained for our contemporary school to accord to it those honors which the school of the first empire had denied to it, and which that of 1830 had given but timidly. At the period last named some of our illustrious masters, by applying their talent to occasional essays in etching, set an example which our own generation, expansive in its aspirations, and anxiously desirous of guarding the rights of individuality, was quick to follow.

The Gazette des Beaux Arts comprehended this movement, and contributed to its extension by attracting to itself the artists who rendered themselves illustrious by the work done for its pages, while, by a sort of natural reciprocity, they shed around it the prestige of their talents. The Société des Aqua-fortistes (Etching Club), founded in 1863 by Alfred Cadart, has also, by the united efforts of many eminent etchers, done its share towards bringing the practice of this art into notice, and has popularized it in the world of amateurs, whose numbers it has been instrumental in augmenting; while at the same time, owing to the nature of its constitution, it has given material support to the artists. Private collections have been formed, and are growing in richness from day to day. Two royal artists, King Ferdinand of Portugal and King Charles XV. of Sweden, have, through their works, taken an active part in the renewal of etching; they were the happy sponsors of a publication which, under the name of L'Illustration Nouvelle, follows in the footsteps, and continues the traditions, of the Société des Aqua-fortistes.

Similar societies, organized in England and in Belgium,[1] are prospering. On the other hand, a great number of art journals, of books, and of albums, owe their success to the use made in them of etchings. This is true also of those special editions which are sumptuously printed in small numbers, and are the delight of lovers of books.

Etching has thus taken a position in modern art which cannot fail to become still more important. “Everything has been said,” wrote La Bruyère, concerning the works of the pen, “and we can only glean after the poets.” The literature of two centuries has given the lie to the assertion of the celebrated moralist, and it may also be affirmed that etching has not yet spoken its last word. Not only has it no need of gleaning after the old masters, but it may rather seek for precious models in the works of our contemporary etchers. In their experience may be found fruit for the present as well as useful information for the future.

An Etcher's Studio.
From the Third Edition of Abraham Bosse's “Treatise,” Paris, 1758.

A TREATISE ON ETCHING.

CHAPTER I.

DEFINITION AND CHARACTER OF ETCHING.

1. Definition.—An etching is a design fixed on metal by the action of an acid. The art of etching consists, in the first place, in drawing, with a point or needle, upon a metal plate, which is perfectly polished, and covered with a layer of varnish, or ground, blackened by smoke; and, secondly, in exposing the plate, when the drawing is finished, to the action of nitric acid. The acid, which does not affect fatty substances but corrodes metal, eats into the lines which have been laid bare by the needle, and thus the drawing is bitten in. The varnish is then removed by washing the plate with spirits of turpentine,[2] and the design will be found to be engraved, as it were, on the plate. But, as the color of the copper is misleading, it is impossible to judge properly of the quality of the work done until a proof has been taken.

2. Knowledge needed by the Etcher.—The aspirant in the art of etching, having familiarized himself by a few trials with the appearance of the bright lines produced by the needle on the dark ground of smoked varnish, will soon go to work on his plate confidently and unhesitatingly; and, without troubling himself much about the uniform appearance of his work, he will gradually learn to calculate in advance the conversion of his lines into lines more or less deeply bitten, and the change in appearance which these lines undergo when transferred to paper by means of ink and press.

It follows from this that the etcher must, from the very beginning of his work, have a clear conception of the idea he intends to realize on his plate, as the work of the needle must harmonize with the character of the subject, and as the effect produced is finally determined by the combination of this work with that of the acid.

The knowledge needed to bring about these intimate relations between the needle, which produces the drawing, and the biting-in, which supplies the color, constitutes the whole science of the etcher.

3. Manner of Using the Needle.—Character of Lines.—The needle or point must be allowed to play lightly on the varnish, so as to permit the hand to move with that unconcern which is necessary to great freedom of execution. The use of a moderately sharp needle will insure lines which are full and nourished in the delicate as well as in the vigorous parts of the work. We shall thus secure the means of being simple. Nor will it be necessary to depart from this character even in plates requiring the most minute execution; all that is required will be a finer point, and lines of a more delicate kind. But the spaces left between the latter will be proportionately the same, or perhaps even somewhat wider, so as to prevent the acid from confusing the lines by eating away the ridges of metal which are left standing between the furrows. Freshness and neatness depend on these conditions in small as well as in large plates.

4. Freedom of Execution.—It is a well-known fact that the engraver who employs the burin (or graver), produces lines on the naked copper or steel which cross one another, and are measured and regular. It is a necessary consequence of the importance of line-engraving, growing out of its application to classical works of high style, that it should always show the severity and coldness of positive and almost mathematical workmanship. With etching this is not the case: the point must be free and capricious; it must accentuate the forms of objects without stiffness or dryness, and must delicately bring out the various distances, without following any other law than that of a picturesque harmony in the execution. It may be made to work with precision, whenever that is needed, but only to be abandoned afterwards to its natural grace. It will be well, however, to avoid over-excitement and violence in execution, which give an air of slovenliness to that which ought to be simply a revery.

5. How to produce Difference in Texture.—The manner of execution to be selected must conform to the nature of the objects. This is essential, as we have at our disposition only a point, the play of which on the varnish is always the same. It follows that we must vary its strokes, so as to make it express difference in texture. If we examine the etchings of the old masters, we shall find that they had a special way of expressing foliage, earth, rocks, water, the sky, figures, architecture, &c., without, however, making themselves the slaves of too constraining a tradition.

6. The Work of the Acid.—After the subject has been drawn on the ground, the acid steps in to give variety to the forms which were laid out for it by the needle, to impart vibration to this work of uniform aspect, and to inform it with the all-pervading warmth of life. In principle, a single biting ought to be sufficient; but if the artist desires to secure greater variety in the result by a succession of partial bitings, the different distances may be made to detach themselves from one another by covering up with varnish the parts sufficiently bitten each time the plate is withdrawn from the bath. The different parts which the mordant is to play must be regulated by the feeling: discreet and prudent, it will impart delicacy to the tender values; controlled in its subtle functions, it will carefully mark the relative tones of the various distances; less restrained and used more incisively, it will dig into the accentuated parts and will give them force.

7. The Use of the Dry Point.—If harmony has not been sufficiently attained, the dry point is used on the bare metal, to modify the values incompletely rendered, or expressed too harshly. Its office is to cover such insufficient passages with a delicate tint, and to serve, as Charles Blanc has very well expressed it, as a glaze in engraving.

8. Spirit in which the Etcher must work.—Follow your feeling, combine your modes of expression, establish points of comparison, and adopt from among the practical means at command (which depend on the effect, and on which the effect depends) those which will best render the effect desired: this is the course to be followed by the etcher. There is plenty of the instinctive which practice will develop in him, and in this he will find a growing charm and an irresistible attraction. What happy effects, what surprises, what unforeseen discoveries, when the varnish is removed from the plate! A bit of good luck and of inspiration often does more than a methodical rule, whether we are engaged on subjects of our own invention,—capricci, as the Italians call them,—or whether we are drawing from nature directly on the copper. The great aim is to arrive at the first onset at the realization of our ideas as they are present in our mind. An etching must be virginal, like an improvisation.

9. Expression of Individuality in Etching.—Having once mastered the processes, the designer or painter need only carry his own individuality into a species of work which will no longer be strange to him, there to find again the expression of the talent which he displayed in another field of art. He will comprehend that etching has this essentially vital element,—and in it lies the strength of its past and the guaranty of its future,—that, more than any other kind of engraving on metal, it bears the imprint of the character of the artist. It personifies and represents him so well, it identifies itself so closely with his idea, that it often seems on the point of annihilating itself as a process in favor of this idea. Rembrandt furnishes a striking example of this: by the intermixture and diversity of the methods employed by him, he arrived at a suavity of expression which may be called magical; he diffused grace and depth throughout his work. In some of his plates the processes lend themselves so marvellously to the severest requirements of modelling, and attain such an extreme limit of delicacy, that the eye can no longer follow them, thus leaving the completest enjoyment to the intellect alone.

Claude Lorrain, on the other hand, knew how to conciliate freedom of execution with majesty of style.

10. Value of Etching to Artists.—Speaking of this subordination of processes in etching to feeling, I am induced to point out how many of the masters of our time, judging by the character of their work, might have added to their merits had they but substituted the etcher's needle for the crayon. Was not Decamps, who handled the point but little, an etcher in his drawings and his lithographs? Ingres only executed one solitary etching, and yet, simply by virtue of his great knowledge, it seems as if in it he had given a presentiment of all the secrets of the craft. And did not Gigoux give us a foretaste of the work of the acid, when he produced the illustrations to his “Gil Blas,” conceived in the spirit of an etcher, which, after thirty years of innumerable similar productions, are still the chef-d'œuvre and the model of engraving on wood. And would Mouilleron have been inferior, if from the stone he had passed to the copper plate? It would be an easy matter to multiply examples chosen from among the artists who have boldly handled the needle, or from among those who might have taken it up with equal advantage, to prove that etching is not, as it has been called, a secondary method. There are no secondary methods for the manifestation of genius.

11. Versatility of Etching.—The needle is the crayon; the acid adds color. The needle is sometimes all the more eloquent because its means of expression are confined within more restricted limits. It is familiar and lively in the sketch, which by a very little must say a great deal; the sketch is the spontaneous letter. It all but reaches the highest expression when it is called in to translate a grand spectacle, or one of those fugitive effects of light which nature seems to produce but sparingly, so as to leave to art the merit of fixing them.

12. Etching compared to other Styles of Engraving.—By its very character of freedom, by the intimate and rapid connection which it establishes between the hand and the thoughts of the artist, etching becomes the frankest and most natural of interpreters. These are the qualities which make it an honor to art, of which it is a glorious branch. All other styles of engraving can never be any thing but a means of reproduction. We must admire the knowledge, the intelligence, and the self-denial which the line-engraver devotes to the service of his art. But, after all, it is merely the art of assimilating an idea which is foreign to him, and of which he is the slave. By him the chefs-d'œuvre of the masters are multiplied and disseminated, and sometimes, in giving eternity to an original work, he immortalizes his own name; but the part he has assumed inevitably excludes him from all creative activity.

13. Etching as a Reproductive Art.—These reserves having been made in regard to the engraver, whose instrument is the burin, justice requires that the reproductive etcher should come in for his proportional share, and that his functions should be defined. Some years ago, a school of etchers arose among us, whose mission it is to interpret those works of the brush which, by the delicacy and elegance of their character, cannot be harmonized with the severity of the burin. This school, to which Mr. Gaucherel gave a great impulse, has been called in to fill a regrettable void in the collections of amateurs. Every one knows those remarkable publications, Les Artistes Contemporains, and Les Peintres Vivants, which, for the last twenty years, have reproduced in lithography the chefs-d'œuvre of our exhibitions of paintings. To-day etching takes the place of lithography; it excels in the reproduction of modern landscapes, and of the genre subjects which we owe to our most esteemed painters. It is not less happy in the interpretation of certain of the old masters, whose works make it impossible to approach them with the burin. The catalogues of celebrated galleries which have lately been sold also testify to the important services rendered to art by the reproductive etcher. His methods are free and rapid; they are not subjected to a severe convention of form. He may rest his own work on the genius of others, so as to attain a success like that of the painter-etcher; but the latter, as he bathes his inspiration in the acid and triumphantly withdraws it, finds his power and his resources within himself alone. He is at once the translator and the poet.

CHAPTER II.

TOOLS AND MATERIALS.—PREPARING THE PLATE.—DRAWING ON THE PLATE WITH THE NEEDLE.

14. Method of Using this Manual.—As the general theory given in the preceding chapter may seem too brief, and may convey but an incomplete idea of the different operations involved in etching, I shall now endeavor to formulate, in as concise a manner as possible, such practical directions as I have had occasion to give to a young designer, and to different other persons, in my own studio. I shall provide successively for all the accidents which usually, or which may possibly, occur. But the beginner need not trouble himself too much about the apparent complication of detail which the following pages present. They are intended, rather, to be consulted, like a dictionary, as occasion arises. In all cases, however, it will be well, on reading the book, to make immediate application of the various directions given, so as to avoid all confusion of detail in the memory, and to escape the tedium of what would otherwise be rather dry reading.

A. Tools and Materials.

15. List of Tools and Materials needed.—To begin with, we must provide ourselves with the following requisites:[3]—

• Copper plates.
• A hand-vice.
• Ordinary etching-ground and transparent ground in balls.
• Liquid stopping-out varnish.
• Brushes of different sizes.
• Two dabbers,—one for the ordinary varnish, the other for the white or transparent varnish.
• A wax taper.
• A needle-holder.
• Needles of various sizes.
• A dry point.
• A burnisher.
• A scraper.
• An oil-stone of best quality.
• A lens or magnifying-glass.
• Bordering-wax.
• An etching-trough made of gutta-percha or of porcelain.
• India-rubber finger-gloves.
• Nitric acid of forty degrees.
• Tracing-paper.
• Gelatine in sheets.
• Chalk or sanguine.
• Emery paper, No. 00 or 000.
• Blotting-paper.
• A roller for revarnishing, with its accessories.
• To these things we must add a supply of old rags.

16. Quality and Condition of Tools and Materials.—Too much care cannot be taken as regards the quality of the copper, which metal is used by preference for etching. Soft copper bites slowly, while on hard copper the acid acts more quickly and bites more deeply. It is to be regretted that nowadays plates are generally rolled, which does not give density enough to the metal. Formerly they were hammered, and the copper was of a better quality. Thus hammered, the metal becomes hard, and is less porous; its molecular condition is most favorable to the action of the acid, the lines are purer, and even when the work is carried to the extreme of delicacy, it is sure to be preserved in the biting.

English copper plates, and plates that have been replaned, are excellent. It is a good plan to buy thick plates, of a dimension smaller than that of the designs to be made, and to have them hammered out to the required size. The plates thus obtained will not fail to be very good.

The vice must have a wooden handle, so as to prevent burning the fingers.

To meet all possible emergencies, lamp-black may be mixed with the liquid stopping-out varnish (petit vernis liquide). Some engravers find that it dries too quickly, and therefore, fearing that it may chip off under the needle, use it only for stopping out; for retouching, they employ a special retouching varnish (vernis au pinceau).[4]

For brushes, select such as are used in water-color painting.

The silk with which the dabbers are covered must be very fine in the thread.

In order to protect his fingers, an engraver conceived the idea of smoking his plates by means of the ends of several candles or wax tapers placed together in the bottom of a little vessel: they furnish an abundance of smoke, and can be extinguished by covering up the vessel. The smoke of a wax taper is the best; it is excellent for small plates.

The needle-holder holds short points of various thicknesses, down to the fineness of sewing-needles.

To sharpen an etching-needle, pass it over the oil-stone, holding it down flat, and turning it continually. When it has attained a high degree of sharpness, describe a large circle with it on a piece of card-board, holding it fixed between the fingers this time, and go on describing circles of a continually decreasing size. The nearer you approach to the centre, the more vertical must be the position of the needle. The fineness or the coarseness of the point is regulated by keeping the needle away from, or bringing it nearer to, the central point.

The dry point must be ground with flat faces rather than round, so as to cut the copper, and penetrate it with ease.

If the burnisher is not sufficiently polished, it scratches the copper, and produces black spots in the proofs. To keep it in good condition, cut two grooves, the size of the burnisher, in a piece of pine board. Rub it up and down the first of these grooves, containing emery powder; and then, to give it its final lustre, repeat the same process, with tripoli and oil, in the second groove.

The stones which are too hard for razors are excellent for the scrapers. Having sharpened the scraper with a little oil, during which operation you must hold it down flat on the stone, pass it over your finger-nail. If the touch discloses the presence of the least bit of tooth, and if the tool does not glide along with the greatest ease, the grinding must be continued, as otherwise the scraper will scratch the copper.

You are at liberty to use two troughs,—one for the acid bath; the other, filled with water, for washing the plate.

A glass funnel, and a bottle with a ground-glass stopper, will be necessary for filling in and keeping the etching liquid.

Various substances are used for finishing off the copper plates; the most natural is the paste obtained by rubbing charcoal on the oil-stone with oil.

Then comes the fine emery paper Nos. 00 or 000, rotten-stone, tripoli, English red, and, finally, slate. Powdered slate, produced by simply scraping with a knife, is excellent, used with oil and a fine rag, the same as other substances.

The varnish for revarnishing is nothing but ordinary etching-ground, dissolved in oil of lavender. It must be about as stiff as honey in winter.

The rollers for revarnishing, which can be had of different sizes, are cylindrical in form, and are terminated by two handles, which revolve in the hands. The roller ought, if possible, to cover the whole surface of the copper.[5] As soon as it has been used, it must be put out of the way of the dust.

These various recommendations are by no means unnecessary, as the least material obstacle may sometimes hinder the flight of the imagination. It is well to be armed against all the troublesome vexations of the handicraft; for the difficulties of the art are in themselves sufficient to occupy our attention.

B. Preparing the Plate.

I shall now proceed to give the various talks which I had with my young pupil.

17. Laying the Ground, or Varnishing.—You have here a plate, I say to him; I clean it with turpentine; then, having well wiped it with a piece of fine linen, and having still further cleaned it by rubbing it with Spanish white (or whiting), I fasten it into the vice by one of its edges, taking care to place a tolerably thick piece of paper under the teeth of the vice, so as to protect the copper against injury. I now hold the plate with its back over this chafing-dish; but a piece of burning paper, or the flame of a spirit-lamp, will do equally well. As soon as the plate is sufficiently heated, I place upon its polished surface this ball of ordinary etching-ground, wrapped up in a piece of plain taffeta; the heat causes the ground to melt. If the plate is too hot, the varnish commences to boil while melting; in that case, we must allow the plate to cool somewhat, as otherwise the ground will be burned. I pass the ball over the whole surface of the copper, taking care not to overcharge the plate with the ground. Then, with the dabber, I dab it in all directions; at first, vigorously and quickly, so as to spread and equalize the layer of varnish; and finally, as the varnish cools, I apply the dabber more delicately. The appearance of inequalities, and of little protruding points in the ground, indicates that it is laid on too thick, and the dabbing must be continued, until we have obtained a perfectly homogeneous layer. This must be very thin,—sufficient to resist strong biting, and yet allowing the point to draw the very finest lines, which it will be difficult to do with too much varnish.

18. Smoking.—Without waiting for the plate to cool, I turn it over, and present its varnished side to the smoke of a torch or a wax taper, which I hold at a distance of about two centimetres from the plate, so as not to injure the varnish. I keep moving the flame about in all directions, to avoid burning the varnish (which latter would take place if the flame remained too long at the same point), and thus I obtain a brilliant black surface. All the transparency is gone; we see neither copper nor varnish, and this is a sign that our operation has succeeded. All we need do now is to allow the plate to cool and the varnish to harden, and then you can commence making your drawing.

You call my attention to the fact that the varnish, in cooling, loses the brilliancy which it had in its liquid state. This is always the case. And see the perfect neatness and evenness of the varnished and smoked surface! Here is a plate which was spoiled in the smoking. The first thing that strikes us is that we see the marks left by the passage of the taper. At a pinch, these marks might, perhaps, be no inconvenience to us in working; but here the brilliant black is broken by very dull spots. These are places in which the varnish was burned; it will scale off under the needle, and has lost the power of resisting the acid. We must therefore clean this plate with spirits of turpentine, and commence operations afresh.

The ground is blackened, because its natural transparency does not permit us to see the work of the point. This work produces what might be called a negative design; that is to say, a design in bright lines on a black ground. This is rather perplexing at first, but you will soon become accustomed to it.

C. Drawing on the Plate with the Needle.

19. The Transparent Screen.—You must place yourself so as to face this window, and between you and it we must introduce, in an inclined position, a transparent screen made of tracing paper stretched on a wooden frame, which will prevent your seeing the window. This screen will soften and strain the light; it will reduce the reflection of the copper, and will allow you to see what you are doing.

In designing on the plate out of doors, the screen is unnecessary, since, as the light falls equally upon the copper from all directions, the reflection is done away with, and the copper does not dazzle the eye as it does when the light emanates from a single source.

20. Needles or Points.—You may use a single needle, or you may use several of different degrees of sharpness, even down to sewing-needles, as you will see later on; but your work on the plate will always look uniform, without distance and without relief. The modelling and coloring of the design must be left to the acid.

The point must be held on the plate as perpendicularly as possible, as the purity of the line depends on the angle of incidence which the point makes with the copper; furthermore, it must be possible to direct it freely and easily in all directions, and it is, therefore, necessary that the needle should not be too sharp. To make sure of this, draw a number of eights on the margin of your plate, or simply an oblique line from below upwards in the direction of the needle. If it does not glide along easily, if it attacks the copper and catches in it, you must regrind it.

This is important, as in principle the function of the needle is to trace the design by removing the varnish from the copper, while it must avoid scratching it. By scratching the metal we encroach on the domain of the acid, and inequality of work is the result, since the acid acts more vigorously on those parts which have been scratched than on those which have simply been laid bare. We must feel the copper under the point, without, however, penetrating into it.

The opposite effect is produced if we operate too timidly. In this case we do not reach the copper. We remove the blackened surface, and it seems as if we had also removed the varnish, since we see the copper shining through it. But we shall find later, from the fact that the acid does not bite, that we did not bear heavily enough on the needle.

At first there is a tendency to proceed as in drawing on paper, giving greater lightness to the touch of the point in the distances, and bearing on it more vigorously in the foregrounds. But this is useless.

There are certain artists, nevertheless, who prefer to attack the copper with cutting points in the finer as well as in the more vigorous parts of their work, and to bite in with strong acid; others, again, dig resolutely into the copper wherever they desire to produce a powerful tone. Abraham Bosse, in applying etching to line-engraving, advises his readers to cut the copper slightly in the lines which are to appear fine, and to dig vigorously into the plate for those lines which are to be very heavy, so that delicate as well as strong work may be obtained at one and the same biting. As it is necessary in this sort of engraving to retouch the heavy lines with the burin, we can understand that in the way shown the work of the instrument named may be facilitated.

21. Temperature of the Room.—In summer the temperature softens the varnish, and the needle works pliantly and easily; in winter the cold hardens the varnish, so that it is apt to scale off under the point, especially at the crossing of the lines. It is advisable, therefore, to have your room well heated, or to supply yourself with two cast-metal plates or two lithographic stones, or even two bricks, if you please, which must be warmed and placed under your plate alternately, so as to keep it at a soft and uniform temperature. Practice has shown that work done at the right temperature is softer than that executed when the varnish is too cold, even if it is not sufficiently so to scale off.

22. The Tracing.—According to the kind of work to be done, we shall either draw directly on the plate, or, in the case of a drawing which is to be copied of its own size, we shall make use of a tracing. Many engravers emancipate themselves from the tracing, and accustom themselves to reversing the original while they copy it. The manner of using a tracing is well known. We shall need tracing-paper, paper rubbed with sanguine on one side, and a pencil. The tracing is made on the tracing-paper, and this is afterwards placed on the prepared plate; between the tracing and the plate we introduce the paper rubbed with sanguine; then, with a very fine lead-pencil, or with a somewhat blunt needle, we go carefully over the lines of the design, which, under the gentle pressure of the tool, is thus transferred in red to the black ground. It is unnecessary to use much pressure, as otherwise your tracing will be obscured by the sanguine and you will find neither precision nor delicacy in it. Furthermore, you run the risk of injuring the ground. The tracing is used simply to indicate the places where the lines are to be, and it must be left to the needle to define them.

23. Reversing the Design.—Whenever your task is the interpretation of an object of fixed aspect, such as a monument, or some well-known scene, or human beings in a given attitude, you will be obliged to reverse the drawing on your plate, as otherwise it will appear reversed in the proof. You must, therefore, reverse your tracing, which is a very easy matter, as the design is equally visible on both sides of the tracing-paper. Gelatine in sheets, however, offers still greater advantages when a design is to be reversed. Place the gelatine on the design, and, as it is easily scratched, make your tracing with a very fine-pointed and sharp needle, occasionally slipping a piece of black paper underneath the gelatine to assure yourself that you have omitted nothing. The point, in scratching the gelatine, raises a bur, and this must be removed gently with a paper stump, or with the scraper, after which operation the tracing is rubbed in with powdered sanguine. Having now thoroughly cleaned the sheet, so that no powder is left anywhere but in the furrows, we turn the sheet over and lay it down on the plate, and finally rub it on its back in all directions, for which purpose we use the burnisher dipped in oil. The design, reversed, will be found traced on the varnish in extremely fine lines.

24. Use of the Mirror.—The tracing finished, place a mirror before your plate on the table, and as close by as possible; between the plate and the mirror fix the design to be reproduced, and then draw the reflected image. For the sake of greater convenience, take your position at right angles to the window instead of facing it, so that the light passing through the transparent screen on your left falls on the mirror and the design, as well as on your work. When drawing on the copper from nature, if the design is to be reversed, you must place yourself with your back to the object to be drawn, and so that you can easily see it in a small mirror set up before your plate. This is the way Méryon proceeded: standing, and holding in the same hand his plate and a little mirror, which he always carried in his pocket, he guided his point with the most absolute surety, without any further support.

25. Precautions to be observed while Drawing.—Before you begin to draw you must trace the margin of your design, for the guidance of the printer. To protect your plate, it will be necessary to cover it with very soft paper; the pressure of the hand does no harm, provided you avoid rubbing the varnish. If you should happen to damage it, you must close up the brilliant little dots which you will observe, by touching them up, very lightly and with a very fine brush, with stopping-out varnish.

26. Directions for Drawing with the Needle.—I might now let you copy some very simple etching; but your knowledge of drawing will, I believe, enable you to try your hand at a somewhat more important exercise. Let us suppose, then, that you are to draw a landscape, although the practice you are about to acquire applies to all other subjects equally well. Will you reproduce this design by Claude Lorrain? ([Pl. II.]) It is a composition full of charm and color, and very harmonious in effect. Use only one needle, and keep your work close together in the distance and more open in the foreground. (See [Pl. I^a.]) That appears paradoxical to you; but the nitric acid will soon tell you why this is so. I shall indicate to you, after your plate has been bitten, those cases in which you will have to proceed differently, or, in other words, in which you will have to draw your lines nearer together or farther apart without regard to the different distances. I cannot explain this subject more fully before you have become acquainted with the process of biting in, as without this knowledge it must remain unintelligible to you. This remark holds good, also, of what I have told you on the subject of the needles of different degrees of sharpness.

“It is curious, my dear sir, to notice how at one and the same time the point combines a certain degree of softness and of precision; those who draw with the pen ought also to be admirers of etching. It seems to me, however, that my lines are too thick; I have already laid several of them, and the varnish is no longer visible; I am afraid I have taken it up altogether.”

You need not feel any uneasiness about that; it is simply owing to the irradiation of the copper, the brilliancy of which the screen does not completely subdue. The bright line is made to look broader than it really is by the brilliant gloss of the metal. But if you lay a piece of tracing-paper on the plate you will see the lines as they really are; that is to say, with plenty of space between them. By the aid of a lens you can convince yourself still more easily; you will often have occasion to avail yourself of this instrument to enable you to do fine work with greater facility, or to give you a better insight into what you have already done.

As the irradiation of which we have just spoken is apt to deceive us in regard to the quantity of the work done, we may happen to find less of it than we expected when the plate has been bitten. Plates which to the beginner seem to be quite elaborately worked, present to the acid lines widely spaced and insufficient in number, thus necessitating retouches. It is essential, therefore, in principle (except in the special cases to be pointed out hereafter), to give to our work, in its first stages, all the development that is necessary.

I forgot to tell you that you must provide yourself with a very soft brush, say a badger, which, from time to time, you must pass lightly over your plate so as to remove the small particles of varnish raised by the needle. Otherwise you will not be able to see properly what you have been doing.

Continue, and follow your own feeling; work away without fear of going wrong; some of your errors you will be able to remedy. Thus, if you have made a mistake, you can lay a thin coat of liquid varnish over the spoiled part by means of a brush; in a few seconds the varnish will have dried, and you can make your correction. You can employ this method for the correction of a faulty line, or to restore a place which should have remained white, but which you have inadvertently shaded.

Here I shall stop for the present, and shall close by saying, May good luck attend your point, as well as your acid! There is nothing more to be said to you until after your plate has been bitten.

CHAPTER III.

BITING.

27. Bordering the Plate.—This work took some time. Our young student, impatient to see the transformation wrought by the acid, came back without keeping me waiting for him.

“Hurry up! A tray, acid, and all the accessories!”

Instead of using a tray, I tell him, we can avail ourselves of another method, which is used by many engravers, and which consists in bordering the plate with wax. This wax,[6] having been softened in warm water, is flattened out into long strips, and is fastened hermetically and vertically around the edges of the plate, so that, when hardened, it forms the walls of a vessel, the bottom of which is represented by the design drawn with the point. To avoid dangerous leaks, heat a key, and pass it along the wax where it adheres to the plate; the wax melts, and, on rehardening, offers all possible guarantees of solidity. We now pour the acid on the plate thus converted into a tray, and as we have taken care to form a lip in one of the angles made by the bordering wax, it is an easy matter to pour off the liquid after each biting. This proceeding is useful in the case of plates which are too large for the tray. Otherwise, however, I prefer a tray made of gutta-percha or porcelain.

28. The Tray.—Let us now install ourselves at this table, and let us cover the margin and the back of the plate with a thick coat of stopping-out varnish. As soon as the varnish is perfectly dry, we place the plate into the tray standing horizontally on the table, and pour on acid enough to cover it to the height of about a centimetre. This depth, which is sufficient for biting, allows the eye to follow the process in its various stages.

29. Strength of the Acid.—This acid is fresh, and has not yet been used; bought at forty degrees, I mix it with an equal quantity of water, which reduces it to twenty degrees. This is the strength generally adopted for ordinary biting. Its color is clear, and slightly yellow; but as soon as it takes up the copper it becomes blue, and then green. As, in its present state, it would act too impetuously, I add to it a small quantity of acid which has been used before. You may also throw a few scraps of copper into it the day before using it; the old etchers used for this purpose a copper coin, larger or smaller, according to the volume of the bath.[7]

30. Label your Bottles!—One day, one of my pupils, having a bad cold, did not notice the difference between the smell of the acid and that of the turpentine, and so plunged a plate which he desired to bite, into a bath of the latter fluid. “It's queer,” he said, “this won't bite, and yet the varnish scales off.... The lines keep enlarging, and run into one another! What does this curious medley mean, which appears on the plate?” It was simple enough. The spirits of turpentine had dissolved the ground, and consequently the plate developed a shining and radiating surface before the eyes of our wondering student, as if it had just left the hands of the plate-maker.

Advice to those who are absent-minded, and who are liable to mistake fluids which look alike for one another,—Label your bottles!

31. The First Biting.—Let us make haste now, I say to my pupil, to do our biting. As the heat of the day abates, the acid becomes less active; and besides, to judge by the delicate character of the original we are to render, we shall need at least two or three hours, all told, for this operation. The task before us consists in the reproduction of a given work, the merit of which lies in the gradation in the various distances. It needs time and attention to be able to carry all the necessary processes successfully into practice.

It will be plain to you, from what I have just said, that the operation you are about to engage in is one of the most delicate in the etcher's practice. There is the plate in the acid; the liquid has taken hold of the copper; but your sky must be light, and a prolonged corrosion would therefore be hurtful to it. Hence we take the plate out of the bath, pass it through pure water, so that no acid is left in the lines, and cover it with several sheets of blotting-paper, which, being pressed against it by the hand, dries the plate. We shall have to go through the same process after each partial biting, because if the plate were moist, the stopping-out varnish which we are going to apply to it would not adhere.

32. The Use of the Feather.—You noticed the lively ebullitions on the plate, which took place twice in succession. After the first, I passed this feather lightly over the copper, to show you its use. Its vane removed the bubbles which adhered to the lines. This precaution is necessary, especially when the ebullitions acquire some intensity and are prolonged, to facilitate the biting, as the gas by which the bubbles are formed keeps the acid out of the lines. If these bubbles are not destroyed, the absence of biting in the lines is shown in the proofs by a series of little white points. Such points are noticeable in some of the plates etched by Perelle, who, it seems, ignored this precaution.

33. Stopping Out.—The two rapid ebullitions which you saw may serve you as a standard of measurement; the biting produced by them must be very light, and sufficient for the tone of the sky. You may, therefore, cover the entire sky with stopping-out varnish by means of a brush, taking care to stop short just this side of the outlines of the other distances. The importance of mixing lamp-black with your stopping-out varnish to thicken it, comes in just here; because if it remained in its liquid state, it might be drawn by capillary attraction into the lines of those parts which you desire to reserve, and thus, by obstructing them, might stop the biting in places where it ought to continue. Wait till the varnish has become perfectly dry; you can assure yourself of this by breathing upon it; if it remains brilliant, it is still soft, and the acid will eat into it; but as soon as it is dry it will assume a dull surface under your breath.[8]

34. Effect of Temperature on Biting.—Let us now return the plate to the bath, to obtain the values of the other distances. The temperature has a great effect on the intensity of the ebullitions, and it is hardly possible to depend on it absolutely as a fixed basis on which to rest a calculation of the time necessary for each biting, as its own variability renders it difficult to appreciate the aid to be received from it. In winter, for instance, with the same strength of acid, it needs four or five times as much time to reach the same result as in summer, so that on very hot days the biting progresses so rapidly that the plate cannot be lost sight of for a single moment without risk of over-biting.

Pl. I^a.

35. Biting continued.—We have now obtained several moderate ebullitions, and as it would not do to exaggerate the tone of the mountain in the background, it is time to withdraw the plate once more. Uncover a single line by removing the ground, either with the nail of your finger or with a very small brush dipped into spirits of turpentine, to examine whether it is deeply enough bitten for the distance which it is to represent. If the depth is not sufficient, cover it with stopping-out varnish, and bite again. This is not necessary, however, in our present case, and you may therefore stop out the whole background. Remember, if you please, that the line must look less heavy than it is to show in the proof; for you must take into account the black color of the printing-ink. With your brush go over the edges of the trees which are to be relieved rather lightly against the sky, as well as over that part of the shadow in this tower which blends with the light. There are also some delicate passages in the figure of the woman in the foreground, in the details of the plants, and in the folds of this tent ([Pl. I^a]). Stop out all these, and do not lose sight of the values of the original ([Pl. II.]). Make use of the brush to revarnish several places which are scaling off on the margin and the back of the plate. The temperature is favorable; the ebullitions come on without letting us wait long, and the plate is bluing rapidly. I do not like to see these operations drag on; in winter, therefore, I do my biting near the fire. We soon acquire a passion for biting, and take an ever-growing interest in it, which is incessantly sharpened by thinking of the result to which we aspire. Hence the desire of constant observation, and that assiduity in following all the phases of the biting-in.

I notice that the acid does not act on certain parts of your work; you will find out soon enough what that means.

36. Treatment of the Various Distances.—“I am thinking just now of what you told me in regard to the background:—that more work ought to be put into it than into the foreground.”

Nothing, indeed, is simpler. You understand that the background, which is bitten in quite lightly, must show very delicate lines, while in the middle distance and in the foreground the lines are enlarged by the action of successive bitings. When it comes to the printing, the quantity of ink received by these various lines will be in proportion to the values which you desired to obtain, and in the proofs you will have a variety of lighter or stronger tones, giving you the needed gradations in the various distances. It follows from this that, if you had worked too sparingly on the distances which receive only a light biting, you could not have reached the value of the tone which you strove to get, and if you had worked too closely on those parts which require continued biting, you would have had a black and indistinct tone, because the lines, which are enlarged by the acid, and consequently keep approaching one another, would finally have run together into one confused mass, producing what in French is called a crevé (blotch).

In an etching the space between the lines must be made to serve a purpose; for the paper seen between the black strokes gives delicacy, lightness, and transparency of tone.

37. The Crevé.—Its Advantages and Disadvantages.—In very skilled hands the crevé is a means of effect. If you wish to obtain great depth in a group of trees, in a wall, in very deep shadows, you will risk nothing by intermingling your lines picturesquely and biting them vigorously. In this way you can produce tones of velvety softness, and at the same time of extraordinary vigor. Similarly, you may strike a fine note by means of running together several lines which, if sufficiently bitten, will form but a single broad one of great solidity and power. It is, indeed, only the exaggeration of this expedient, which, by unduly enlarging the limits of the broad line just spoken of, and thus producing a large and deep surface between them, constitutes the crevé properly so called; the printing ink has no hold in this flat hollow, and a gray spot in the proof is the result. I have warned you of the accident; later on you shall hear something of the remedy. We will now continue our biting. Plunge your plate into the bath again, if you please.

38. Means of ascertaining the Depth of the Lines.—“My dear sir, I see that my drawing turns black; it disappears almost entirely, and is lost in the color of the ground.[9] I am quite perplexed. My mind endeavors to penetrate beneath this varnish, so as to be able to witness the mysterious birth of my œuvre. See these violent ebullitions! What do you think of them?”

Let them go on a moment longer, and then withdraw your plate. We have now arrived at a point where the eye cannot judge of the work of the acid as easily as before; henceforth we must, therefore, examine the depth of our bitings by uncovering a single line, as, for instance, this one here in the ground. Or we may even lay bare, by the aid of spirits of turpentine, a part of the foreground, provided, however, that we must not forget to cover it again with the brush. This will give us an idea of the total effect so far produced by the biting, and we can then regulate the partial bitings which are still to follow, either by a comparison of the time employed on those that have gone before, or by the intensity of the ebullitions, the action of which on the copper we have already studied. You perceive that, while it is difficult to fix a standard of time for the bitings at the beginning of the operation, it is yet possible to calculate those to come by what we have so far done.

39. The Rules which govern the Biting are subordinated to various Causes.—In reality, it is impossible to establish fixed rules for the biting, for the following reasons:—

1. Owing to the varying intensity of the stroke of the needle. The etcher who confines himself to gently baring his copper must bite longer than he who attacks his plate more vigorously, and therefore exposes it more to the action of the acid.

2. Owing to the different quality of the plates.

3. Owing to the difference in temperature of the surrounding air:—of this we have before spoken.

4. Owing to difference of strength in the acid, as it is impossible always to have it of absolutely the same number of degrees. At 15° to 18° the biting is gentle and slow; at 20° it is moderate; at 22° to 24° it becomes more rapid. It would be dangerous to employ a still higher degree for the complete biting-in of a plate, especially in the lighter parts.

40. Strong Acid and Weak Acid.—It is, nevertheless, possible to put such strong acid to good service. A fine gray tint may, for instance, be imparted to a well-worked sky by passing a broad brush over it, charged with acid at 40°. But the operation must be performed with lightning speed, and the plate must instantly be plunged into pure water.

As a corollary of the fourth cause, it is well to know that an acid overcharged with copper loses much of its force, although it remains at the same degree. Thus an acid taken at 20°, but heavily charged with copper from having been used, will be found to be materially enfeebled, and to bite more slowly than fresh acid at 15° to 18°. To continue to use it in this condition would be dangerous, because there is no longer any affinity between the liquid and the copper, and if, under such circumstances, you were to trust to the appearance of biting (which would be interminable, besides), you would find, on removing the varnish, that the plate had merely lost its polish where the lines ought to be, without having been bitten. It is best, therefore, always to do your biting with fresh acid, constantly renewed, as the results will be more equal, and you will become habituated to certain fixed conditions.

Some engravers, of impetuous spirit and impatient of results, do their biting with acid of a high degree, while others, more prudent, prefer slow biting, which eats into the copper uniformly and regularly, and hence they employ a lower degree. In this way the varnish remains intact, and there is not that risk of losing the purity of line which always attends the employment of a stronger acid.

41. Strength of Acid in relation to certain Kinds of Work.—Experience has also shown that, with the same proportion in the time employed, the values are accentuated more quickly and more completely by a strong than by a mild acid; this manifests itself at the confluence of the lines, where the acid would play mischief if the limit of time were overstepped.

Another effect of biting which follows from the preceding, is noticeable in lines drawn far apart. Of isolated lines the acid takes hold very slowly, and they may therefore be executed with a cutting point and bitten in with tolerably strong acid.

The reverse takes place when the lines are drawn very closely together; the biting is very lively. Work of this kind, therefore, demands a needle of moderate sharpness and a mild acid.

Hence, interweaving lines and very close lines are bitten more deeply by the same acid than lines drawn parallel to each other, and widely spaced, although they may all have been executed with the same needle. If, in an architectural subject, you have drawn the lines with the same instrument, but far apart on one side, and closely and crossing each other on the other, you must not let them all bite the same length of time, if you wish them to hold the same distance. It will be necessary to stop out the latter before the former, otherwise you will have a discordant difference in tone. There will be inequality in the biting, but it will not be perceptible to the eye, as the general harmony has been preserved. (See [Pl. IV.] Fig. 1.)

In short, strong acid rather widens than deepens the lines; mild acid, on the contrary, eats into the depth of the copper, and produces lines which are shown in relief on the paper, and are astonishingly powerful in color. This is especially noticeable in the etchings of Piranesi, who used hard varnish.

42. Last Stages of Biting.—But let us return to our operation. You noticed that I allowed your plate to bite quite a while; this was necessary to detach your foreground and middle-ground vigorously from the sky and the background. You may now stop out the trees, the tower, and the tent in the middle-ground, and the vertical part of the bridge, which is in half-tint, and then proceed. Note that the number of bitings is not fixed, but depends on the effect to be reached.

“In that case it is to be hoped, for the sake of my apprentice hands, that I shall never have many bitings to do. Just look at my fingers! They are in a nice state. The prettiest yellow skin you ever saw!”

Oh, don't let that color trouble you; it will be all black by to-morrow.

“Much obliged to you for this bit of consolation!”

Besides, it will take you a week to grow a new skin. In future you must soak your fingers in pure water whenever you have got them into the acid. You might have used india-rubber finger-gloves; they are excellent to keep the hands clean, but it is not worth while to trouble about them for the present, as we are almost done.[10] I think you may now stop out all that remains, with the exception of the darkest places in the foreground, to which we must give a final biting.

There! Now we've got it! Withdraw your plate for the last time, and as there are some very widely spaced lines in this tree in the foreground, you will risk nothing by giving them a final touch with pure acid. The strongest accent in the landscape rests on this spot; it determines the color of the whole. By this application of pure acid we shall get a vigorous tone, a powerful effect.

I may as well tell you here that it is sometimes advisable to add a small quantity of pure acid to the bath towards the end of the operation, so as to increase the activity of the biting on certain parts of the plate without running into excess. But as the place now under consideration is restricted, we shall adopt another means, so as to limit the action of the acid to the given point. See here: I let fall a few drops; the pure acid eats into the copper with great vehemence; the metal turns green, and the ebullition subsides. Now take up the exhausted liquid with a piece of blotting-paper, and let us commence again. Under these newly added drops of fresh acid, the varnish is ready to scale off, the lines sputter, and assume a strange yellow color; these golden vapors announce that the operation is finished.

What follows, is the task of the printer; his press will tell us whether we have won, or whether we have been mated. Clean the plate with spirits of turpentine, using your fingers, or with a very clean old rag (calico, if possible), if you are afraid to soil your hands. Be sure to have the plate well cleaned, but take care not to scratch it.

The acid, which may be of use hereafter, we will turn into a glass bottle with a ground stopper, and will store it in some safe place.

CHAPTER IV.

FINISHING THE PLATE.

43. Omissions.—Insufficiency of the Work so far done.—The result you have obtained, I tell my pupil, as he shows a proof of the first state of his plate to me, is not final. Your work needs a few retouches and slight modifications, not counting the little irregularities which I had foreseen, and which it will be easy enough to repair. We will proceed in order. (See [Pl. I^a]). To commence with, here are certain parts which are sufficiently bitten, and which, nevertheless, are indecisive in tone, and do not hold their place. I allude to the columns and to the trees in the further distance; one feels that there is something wanting there, which must be added. You must, therefore, re-cover your plate, in the manner already known to you, either with transparent ground, or with ordinary etching-ground, just as if the plate had never yet been touched by the needle.

44. Transparent Ground for Retouching.—The white or transparent ground or varnish[11] admirably allows all previous work to show through. It is preferred to the ordinary ground for working over parts that have been insufficiently bitten, on account of its transparency, which leaves even the finest lines visible, while under the ordinary ground these lines might be lost entirely. It will be an easy matter for you to combine the new work with the old; the very slight shadow thrown on the copper by the transparent ground will give a blackish appearance to your lines, which may serve as a guide to you, and, with your proof before your eyes, you will readily succeed in finding the places which need retouching. To make assurance doubly sure, you can indicate the retouches on your proof with a lead-pencil.

The transparent ground has occasionally been found to crack and scale off, when left in the bath for a long while, or when strong acid is used. But as you are only going to use it for light and, consequently, short biting, you need not fear this danger. Another inconvenience, which may easily be prevented, consists in the presence of small bubbles of air, which appear on the varnish as soon as it begins to melt. Heat the plate just to the proper point of melting, and dab it vigorously for some length of time, until the varnish cools; then hold the back of the plate flat to the fire; the varnish melts again, and the rest of the bubbles disappear. If some of them should prove to be obstinate, cover them very lightly with the brush, as otherwise the acid will penetrate through the passages thus left open, and will make little holes in the copper, which, on removing the varnish, will cause an unpleasant surprise. You shall hear more of this further on.

45. Ordinary Ground used for Retouching.—Biting the Retouches.—Ordinary etching-ground, such as we used in the first instance, does not show the work previously done as well as the transparent ground, but the later additions are seen all the better on it. It may be used in its natural state, or it may be smoked. It is preferable to the transparent varnish, whenever the work already achieved is deeply bitten, and hence easily seen.

In the present case my advice is that you use the ordinary ground. Having made your retouches, introduce your plate into the bath, and proceed as before, by partial biting, endeavoring, as much as possible, to obtain the same intensity of tone. These additions, thus bitten by themselves, will mingle with the lines previously drawn, and now protected by the varnish.

It is hardly possible to judge of the additions, especially on transparent varnish, until they have been bitten in. But, if you should then find that you have not yet reached your point, you can revarnish the plate once more, and complete the parts that appear to be unfinished.

I must also call your attention to the fact, that all lines drawn on transparent ground seem to thicken most singularly, as soon as the acid begins to work. But do not let that deceive you.

Now look at this spot in the immediate foreground ([Pl. I^a]), which has a somewhat coarse appearance. It is much softer in the original (represented by [Pl. II.]). You must add a few lines, and must bite them rather lightly; they will mingle agreeably with the energetic lines of the first state. You may put the large trees through the same process, and you will find that they gain in lightness by it. Later on, when you have acquired more experience, you will occasionally find it handy to make these additions between two bitings. You will thus reach the desired result without the necessity of regrounding your plate.

Sometimes, when using strong acid for these retouches, the lines first drawn are also attacked by the liquid. In that case, stop the biting immediately, and rest contented with what you have got. It is not difficult to understand why these revarnished lines should commence to bite again, more especially if they are deep: the acid, finding the edges of the lines (which are sharp and angular, and therefore do not offer much hold to the varnish) but indifferently protected, attacks them, without going into their depths. The ravages thus committed along the edges of the lines may be quite disastrous; and it is well, therefore, whenever you revarnish a plate, to give additional protection to those parts which are not to be retouched, by going over them with stopping-out varnish.

46. Revarnishing with the Brush.—Instead of revarnishing with the dabber, the ground may also be laid with the brush. For this purpose you can use the stopping-out varnish mixed with lamp-black. Spread a coat of varnish all over the plate, using a very soft brush; if the copper should not be perfectly covered on the edges of the deeply etched lines, add a second coat of varnish. Do not wait till the varnish has become too dry before you execute the retouches, which, of course, must also be bitten in as usual. Mixed with lamp-black, the stopping-out varnish allows even the finest lines to be seen, which would not show as well if the varnish were used in its natural state. Many engravers use this varnish instead of the transparent ground.

47. Partial Retouches.—Patching.—For partial retouches and for patching the stopping-out varnish is also used, but in a simpler and more expeditious way. Cover the part in question with a tolerably thick coat of varnish, and when you have finished your retouch, slightly moisten the lines with saliva, to prevent the few drops of acid which you supply from your bath with the brush from running beyond the spot on which they are to act. If pure acid is used,—which is still more expeditious,—the effervescence is stopped by dabbing with a piece of blotting-paper, and the operation is repeated as long as the biting does not appear to be sufficient. For very delicate corrections it is advisable not to wait until the first ebullition is over; but it must be left to the feeling to indicate the most opportune moment for the application of the blotting-paper. If you proceed rapidly and cautiously, you can obtain extremely fine lines in this way, as you have had occasion to see under other circumstances (see paragraph 40, p. [25]).

You may recollect that I spoke of lines which had not bitten: I alluded to this spot in the middle of the bridge (see [Pl. I^a]). You did not bear on your needle sufficiently, and hence it did not penetrate clear down to the copper; consequently, after having compared the proof of the first state with the original ([Pl. II.]), you must do the necessary patching according to the instructions just given to you.

48. Dry Point.—Whenever it is necessary to retouch, or to add to very delicate parts of the plate, such as the extreme distance, or any other part very lightly bitten, it is safer to use the dry point, as in such cases retouching by acid is a most difficult thing to do. The tone must be hit exactly, and without exaggeration.

Your plate offers an opportunity for the use of the dry point: the sky and the mountain are partly etched; you can improve them by a few touches of the dry point.

The dry point is held in a perpendicular position, and is used on the bare copper. It must be ground with a cutting edge, and very sharp, so that it may freely penetrate into the copper, and not merely scratch it. You cut the line yourself, regulating its depth by the amount of pressure used, and according to the tone of the particular passage on which you are working. For patching, it is more frequently used in delicate passages than in others, as, even with great pressure, the strength of a dry point line will always be below that of a line deeply bitten. In printing, the dry point line has less depth of color than the bitten line, as the acid bites into the copper perpendicularly at right angles; while the furrow produced by the dry point, which offers only acute angles, takes up less ink, although it appears equally broad. This inequality disappears if a plate in which etched lines and dry point work are intermingled is re-bitten; the difference in tone is then equalized.

On the other hand, the difference in the appearance of etched lines and dry point work produces curious effects. Thus, if a passage which is too strong and appears to stand out is to be corrected, a few touches of the dry point will be sufficient to soften it, and to push it back to another distance.

The dry point is not only used for retouching; it is sometimes employed, without any etching, to put in the whole background.

49. Use of the Scraper for removing the Bur thrown up by the Dry Point.—The dry point work being finished, the bur thrown up by the instrument must be removed. The bur is the ridge raised on the edge of the line, as the point ploughs through the metal; you can satisfy yourself of its existence by the touch. In printing, the ink catches in this ridge, and produces blots. The bur is removed by means of the scraper, an instrument with a triangular blade, one of the sides of which, held flat, is passed over the plate in the opposite direction to that of the stroke of the point, and so as to take the line obliquely. You need not feel any anxiety about injuring the plate; the touch will tell you when the bur has disappeared. In the case of dry point lines crossing one another, each set running in a different direction must be drawn as well as scraped separately, in the manner just described; otherwise you will run the risk of closing the lines which cross the path of the scraper, by turning the bur down into the furrows.

50. Reducing Over-bitten Passages.—So much for the additions. We will now pass on to the very opposite: the shadow thrown by the parapet, and the ground between the man and the woman, have been over-bitten. These parts do not harmonize with the neighboring parts, and are stronger in tone than the corresponding parts of the original.

To remedy this, there are four means at your command:—

51. The Burnisher.—As these passages are limited in extent, and not very deeply bitten, you may use the burnisher to reduce them. Moisten it with saliva, and take only a small spot at a time, holding the instrument down flat. If you were to use only the end, you might make a cavity in the copper. The burnisher flattens and enlarges the surface of the copper, and consequently diminishes the width of the line. The tone, therefore, is reduced.

On fine, close, and equal work the burnisher does excellent service, the effect being analogous to that of the crumb of bread on a design on paper.

It is less efficacious on deeply bitten work, because it rounds off the edges of the lines as it penetrates into the furrows, and thus detracts somewhat from the freshness of tone,—an unpleasant result, which, in very fine work, is beyond the power of the eye to see.

You may use the burnisher to get rid of certain spots produced in the foliage by lines placed too closely together, and by the same means you can reduce those exaggerated passages in the stone-work of the right-hand column.

You can also burnish these useless little blotches in the mountains.

52. Charcoal.—Whenever it is necessary to reduce the whole of a distance, the use of charcoal is to be preferred. Charcoal made of willow, or of other soft woods, which can be had of the plate-makers, is used flat, impregnated with oil or water; it must be freed from its bark, as this would scratch the plate. It wears the metal away uniformly, and does not injure the crispness of the lines. Rub the passage to be reduced with the charcoal, regulating the length of time by the degree of delicacy you desire to attain. At the beginning soak your charcoal in water, so as leave it more tooth; then clean it, and continue with oil, which reduces the wear on the copper. The eye is sufficient to judge of the wear; the way in which the charcoal takes hold of the copper, and the copper-colored spots which it shows, may serve as guides. As the effectiveness of the different kinds of charcoal varies, these divers qualities of softness and coarseness are utilized according to the nature of the correction to be made. It is well to know, also, that it takes hold much more actively if used in the direction of the grain, than transversely. You may, according to circumstances, commence with a piece of coal having considerable tooth, continue with another that is less aggressive, and wind up with a somewhat soft piece. The heavier the charcoal the coarser its tooth, the lightest being the softest. The plate must be washed, so as to keep the charcoal always clean; as otherwise the dust produced, which forms a paste, will wear down the bottom of the furrows, and the result, in the proof, will be dull and reddish lines.

Charcoal is also used to remove the traces of the needle in those parts of the plate in which changes were made while the drawing was still in progress.

53. The Scraper.—The scraper is more efficacious than the burnisher in the case of small places that have been deeply bitten. If the scraper is sufficiently sharp, it leaves no trace whatever on the lowered surface of the copper.