stantiality, flat, waving shadows without beauty or meaning. Who would guess from that obscure and formless net-work in the distance that the next line of these verses is—
"And all the sunset heaven behind your head?"
This "generalization" of the landscape, as it is called, empties it of all that makes it lovely. To the cut, as an example of figure-engraving, the highest praise may be given, but as an entire picture it is harmed by its imperfection of detail. To subordinate by destroying is not the mode of high art, but it is often the mode of the new school.
Of all the work of recent years, however, the best, it is generally admitted, is in the portraits, possibly because the artists are restrained by the definiteness of the form and expression to be conveyed. Mr. Cole's Modjeska has been already praised, though it is rather a fine figure than a fine portrait. A portrait of Mr. Hunt by Mr. Linton, and of Mr. Fletcher Harper by Mr. Kruell, are also of high merit, and in both a very high level of excellence is sustained. The special character of the new school in portraiture, as a distinct and radical style, is illustrated by Mr. Juengling's "Spanish Peasant" (Fig. 88). It recalls at once the portrait of Whistler by the same hand. In disposition of color, in certainty of effect, and in skill of execution, all must recognize the engraver's power; but is the value of the human face, in whose mouldings is expressed the life of years and generations—is the value of the human eye, in which the light never goes out, truly felt? One cannot help feeling that the brutalizing of this face is a matter rather of art than of truth. Contrast the two portraits here given (Figs. 89, 90), one in the bolder, more definite, larger style, admi-
