A variety of elements must be weighed in the mind of the collector whenever he decides for or against the purchase of a particular specimen to add to his collection.

The Artist.—In the first place, the authorship of the print is an important consideration. If the designer is a very great man like Kiyonaga, or a very rare one like Kitao Masanobu, or both combined like Shigemasa, these facts must be given weight. Other things being equal, a print by an important leader such as Utamaro is more desirable than one by a less original follower such as Banki. A Kiyonaga is a little preferable to an equally beautiful Shuncho, because of Kiyonaga's prime historical importance. The work of certain other men is prized by collectors because of its scarcity; Chincho, for example, would be only moderately valued were it not for the extraordinary rarity of his designs. When rarity combines with greatness, as in the case of Kwaigetsudō, Moronobu, Buncho, and Sharaku, the desirability of the artist's work is naturally doubled in the eyes of the collector.

A print sometimes derives an unusual interest from the fact that it is of a kind seldom produced by the particular artist who designed it. Harunobu and Kiyonaga actor-prints are exceptional things, dating from the early years of these men's careers. On the other hand, the silver-prints of Utamaro, the triptychs of Kiyonaga, and the yellow-background prints of Yeishi are desirable for the opposite reason; they represent famous and characteristic aspects of the work of their respective creators.

The Quality of the Design.—The impression produced upon the æsthetic sense of the collector is the most vital of all the elements that determine his choice. The composition, the drawing, the total beauty of the design, will in each individual case have their importance; and upon the collector's estimate of these qualities will depend his desire to own the print. There are some dull and uninteresting designs by even the most gifted men—work without charm or life. Shunsho was a great sinner in this respect; so also were Utamaro and Toyokuni. On the other hand, men of secondary importance produced occasional triumphs; a Yeisho or a Yenshi is sometimes found in which the most brilliant qualities of composition appear. Each print must be appraised on its own merits.

The collector generally passes by all designs in which clumsiness or awkwardness is evident, and waits patiently for those in which the force, or grace, or dignity of the composition proclaims the masterpiece. Kiyonaga's "Terrace by the Sea," Sharaku's portrait of the Daimyo Moronao, Hokusai's "Red Mountain," and Utamaro's "Firefly Catchers" are examples of that unsurpassable quality which no experienced collector willingly lets escape him.

The Quality of the Impression.—Different copies of the same print differ enormously in quality. The finest design is of little avail if the work of the printer has not been judicious. Among early prints, before Utamaro, really bad impressions are not very common, although especially fine and brilliant ones are hard to obtain. Later, particularly in the work of Hiroshige, the poor ones much outnumber the good. In a good impression the lines are all sharp and clean: where the hair meets the temples, every brush-stroke is clearly defined. The blacks are rich and heavy, not sooty or streaked. The colours must be in perfect register; that is, each must exactly fill its allotted space without overlapping and without ragged edges. Prints in which these defects occur are either careless impressions or late impressions from worn blocks. Whichever be the explanation, they are not desirable; the discriminating collector does not care to acquire any but perfectly printed sheets. All the skill and devotion of the printer was needed to make the resulting product a just interpretation of the conception of the designer; in a bad impression the beauty of the design is ruined.

Prior to the nineteenth century it was the usual practice to give each colour-block a uniform coat of pigment; thus each separate colour impressed on the paper was completely flat and unshaded. In Hiroshige's time, however, the pigment was often partially wiped from portions of the block, so that in the resulting print the colour shades gradually into the uncoloured white of the paper. Many of Hiroshige's prints derive a considerable portion of their beauty from the subtlety of these gradations.

There are no such things as signed artist's proofs among Japanese prints; but there is a class of prints that corresponds to them. They are not labelled; nothing distinguishes them from the ordinary copies except the extreme beauty of the printing. These rare impressions were probably early ones made under the eye of the artist. The sharpness of the lines, the harmony of the colours, and the delicacy of gradation in any shaded portions are of a perfection lacking in the ordinary copies. It took much care and time, and was therefore expensive, to produce such work; and probably the majority of purchasers were unwilling to pay the additional price entailed by this degree of attention. The few existing copies of this character are exceptionally prized by the collector to-day.

The colour-schemes used in printing various copies of the same print often differ widely, and there is considerable difference in desirability on this ground alone. Some of Hiroshige's prints are found in monochromes of blue or of grey—some of Hokusai's are in bluish green. These rare and beautiful variations from the normal are highly valued. On the other hand, the late prints of Hiroshige are generally printed in raucous greens and reds and purples that are an offence to the eye; and only rarely do we find copies of them in which a soft and harmonious colour scheme reveals the intention of the artist. This explains why certain prints from the "One Hundred Views of Yedo" sometimes bring fifteen or twenty pounds apiece, though multitudes of ordinary copies of the identical print can be purchased for a few shillings each. Badly coloured examples of Hiroshige's work are plentiful and of little value; harmonious and subtly modulated ones are things of unsurpassable beauty, and almost as rare as Kiyonagas. The collector of Hiroshige prints will scrutinize a specimen with the utmost care to determine whether the colour scheme is harmonious, and whether the pigments have been applied in the delicately graded luminous manner that Hiroshige intended. If he finds that the various tones are harsh in quality, or are printed in crude, unshaded masses, he will reject the sheet. Considerable familiarity with really fine impressions is the only safeguard in this matter. The beginner is only too ready to be led astray by the charm of the design, not realizing how much this same design is enhanced if given the expression of appropriate printing; and he is very likely to find himself loaded down with worthless impressions, the very sight of which is repugnant to him after he has become familiar with fine copies of the same prints. Poor copies are worth nothing; but choice ones are never really dear at any price.

In this matter more than in any other a fine collection differs from a poor one, and it is in this that the discriminating collector has his best chance to match his judgment against that of the dealer. Sometimes one can for a few shillings select from a pile of worthless Hiroshiges a notable impression that is worth twenty times the sum asked for it.