In the “book of the future” the author will help personally, more than he has ever done, as I have already suggested. The subject is not half-ventilated yet, nor can I touch upon it further, but the day is not far distant when the power of the hand of the author will be tested to the utmost, and lines of all kinds will appear in the text. There is really no limit to what may be done with modern appliances, if only the idea is seized with intelligence.
Two questions, however, remain unanswered—(1) Whether, as a matter of language and history, we are communicating information to each other much better than the ancients did in cuneiform inscriptions, on stones and monuments. (2) Whether, as a matter of illustrative art, we are making the best use of modern appliances.
Let us, then, cultivate more systematically the art of drawing for the press, and treat it as a worthy profession. Let it not be said again, as it was to me lately by one who has devoted half a lifetime to these things, “The processes of reproduction are to hand, but where are our artists?” Let it not be said that the chariot-wheels of the press move too fast for us—that chemistry and the sun’s rays have been utilised too soon—that, in short, the processes of reproduction have been perfected before their time! I think not, and that an art—the art of pictorial expression—which has existed for ages and is now best understood by the Japanese, may be cultivated amongst us to a more practical end.
“TAKE CARE.” (W. B. BAIRD.)
(Royal Academy, 1891.)
[24] There seems but one rule of criticism in this connection. If a book illustration comes out coarsely and (as is often the case) a mere smudge, the process is blamed, when the drawing or photograph may have been quite unsuitable for the process employed.