that dream may come to pass surprisingly soon. If his dream is of old china, zerapes or rare antiques, and he will wander out into queer places and idle away a few hours with the natives, he may find such exquisite treasures as to make him dread the waking, lest his dream should not prove true.

Or does he dream that brighter days are in store for these much-despised peons?

said that a higher civilization is beginning to press in upon these quiet, brown people, and this dream may also come to pass. And if the idler will lift his eyes above the little streets, above the terraces of flat roofs and walls and arches, above the mines and church towers - he may see or dream that he sees - the millennium coming over those cactuscrowned hilltops almost any day.

N the fine arts as in criminal jurisprudence, intent is the crux of things. If our genial friend Elia were alive he would be very apt to remark that intent was not the only matter in common a waggery fully justified by the references to "crime" in the literature of art. But let them pass - sufficient unto the day is the element of intent.

In the causes célebrès of the time there are analyses enough, and to spare, of the nature and quality of the acts which set up a presumption of intent; as for example the doing of things which, in the normal sequence of affairs, could but eventuate in the crime at bar. And it is even so

in that department of the fine arts now the sphere of the pictorial photographers.

Saving a few world-resounding fruitions such as "Rodin, Le Penseur" by Steichen - and noting the exceptions of record, the modern cult in camera craft stands for conviction rather on the quality and direction of antecedent processes than on the actual accomplishment of masterworks of graphic art. The point to be insisted on is that the intent is well defined and the objective unmistakable.

In one of his inimitable essays Walter Bagehot quoted with approval the droll humor of some nameless wit who observed that the reason so few good books were written was that so few men who could write well knew anything worth writing about. And until the beginning of the

when first introduced, the "gum process' in the hands of innumerable men of sense and science has been reduced to its chemical and pictorial elements, and it is quite as exact and predicable in its behavior as silver bromid is in the presence of reducing agents. Not only do we know that gum arabic and bichromate of potash mixed with pigment and spread on paper will yield artistic "fuzzy-types," but, thanks to the quiet research work of a host of photo-chemists of all grades of acumen, we have learned many new and valuable facts about chromium salts in general and their properties in the presence of a wide variety of colloids.

Of a similar order of merit was the perfection of the glycerin-development method for platinotype paper by Mr. Stieglitz and Mr. Joseph T. Keiley; and the mercury modification of the same medium for pictorial effects otherwise unobtainable.

Much might be added to the score of credit due to the amateurs of the new movement for variations in lens types, for a number of valuable additions to the list of available processes, for new and prevailing methods of manipulation both of dry plates and paper, and for a consider

able mass of experience and data leading up to the achievement of color photography.

In every center of esthetic culture the world over, for the last decade, hundreds of enthusiasts of the lens and camera have been toiling with truly admirable devotion to bring nearer the realization of the painter's ideals by the means and methods of modern science. The zeal which possesses these pictorial workers in Europe, in Asia, in Africa, in Oceania and in America, is strongly reminiscent of the "mania for drawing the forms of things

the things of heaven and of Buddha, the lives of men and of women," which Hokusai ascribed to himself in his "Mang-wa." Not only have the photographers had to perfect their methods and nicely adapt their means to the end; they have had to analyze the world's heritage from the masters of the past in every department of art, seizing the essential principles and finding ways to embody them in the product of the camera.

Hundreds of exhibitions have been or

of

ganized since the birth of the pictorial movement and literally thousands prints have been submitted to juries of selection composed of painters, sculptors and photographers. The censorship which has been exercised by these juries, under the authority of Salon canons, has been extremely rigid. "Artistic intention and individuality of expression" have been ever the criteria of judgment. Technical perfection without evidence of imaginative power has been thrown out; profound characterization, such as results from intense artistic perception and feeling, has been exalted. From one end of the world to the other these exhibitions have been viewed and studied by innumerable devotees of the camera. Royalty has contributed to them on the same terms imposed upon the lowliest aspirant for honors. Private collectors and public galleries have purchased admirable examples of the new school. The art journals and the illustrated press of the world have vied one with another in reproducing these prints. Successful Salon workers