20 
[.and & Water 
February 7, igi8 
Les Pellerins d'Emmaus 
By Maurice Denis 
print, but reproductions of them. In lithography the artist's 
o vn lines do print, are not reproduced, but multiplied " 
This very responsiveness of lithography brings its own 
dargers because there is not in it the discipline that the 
resistance of materials lends to the various methods of en- 
graving. Foth etching and wood e-gravirg aln-ost compel 
the virtue of simplicity and economy ; and by discouraging 
any very close imitation of nature they put a premium on 
design. Lithography gives the artist every facihty. Not that 
this is to be regretted in itself, but that it seems to call for a 
certain self restraint in the artist. 
How far an artist should observe limitations that are rot 
compelled by the medium is a nice question ; probably in the 
last analysis all arti?tic virtues are virtues of necessity ; but 
itcanrot be denied that those lithographs give the rro t lastirg 
satisfaction in wl ich the artist has not taken full advantage of 
his freedoTi ; has treated his design with a touch of formality, 
or been co itent with suggestion when he might have indulged 
in full statement. " Les Pelerins d'Emmkus," by Maurice 
Denis ; " The Wave," by Mr. Nevinson ; " Mower Carrying 
Scythe," by Mr. Harry Becker ; " Shepherd and Shepl erdess," 
by Mr. Frank Brangwyn, and " Boys Bathing," by Cezanne 
may not be the examples that show best the full resources and 
possibilities of Hthography, but they are certainly among the 
most satisfying pictures. 
On thinking it over I begin to see that the virtues of litho- 
graphy are virtues of necessity after all. Because it is an 
autographic method of multiplying drawings its virtues are 
precisely those of drawing ; and tlie virtues of drawing are 
determined by the implement that it is done with. A stick of 
greasy chalk used characteristically is rot a suitable imple- 
ment for full or elaborate statement, though it is excellent 
for sugg'stion ; and since all drawing is primarily the trans- 
lation of things into line it is proper that the lines should be 
composed with some care. What it amounts to is that litho- 
graphy puts upon the artist a responsibility that in fome 
other forms of art is taken off his hand by the obstinacy of the 
materials themselves. 
Ore thing brought out by the exhibition is the peculiar 
suitability of lithography for what may be called pictorial 
journalism— in a perfectly dignified sense of the words. The 
set of war drawings by Captain Spencer Pryse, and " Conseil 
juridiqiie," by Forain, are examples of w'hat I mean. An 
autographic method of multiplying drawings is obviously 
a boon to tlie artist who wishes to make a swift and impulsive 
record of actuality ; whether his aim be documentary or 
satirical. In the more considered methods of reproduction 
by engraving the actuality is apt to fade out. Even when 
the artist is his own engraver he is almost bound to introduce 
.second thoughts. It is worth remarking, by the way, that 
many satirical draughtsmen practise lithography. With all 
these resources and possibiUties at their command the 
members of the Senefelder Club have no need to quahfy " the 
advancement of lithography " with the draper's word 
" artistic." 
Homecoming 
By N. M. F. Corbett. 
I stood upon the weed-hung, g istening pier 
Waiting, And the grey, s'ow, whispering tide 
Eddied about the stones and, gaunt and drear — 
Like some gigantic skeleton astride 
The mist-enshrouded F rth — the Br dge rose sheer. 
And other women, mother, wife, and br de. 
Were waiting too : and n their eyes lurked Fear. 
Fear froze the breath upon their trembling lips 
That bravel}' lied to comfort one another. 
I heard one pale-faced girl-wife whisper, " Mother 
Nothing could happen to those modern ships ? 
It's not a.i if she were an o d one." I 
Caught the answer, " Dar iag, if God so wills '. . ." 
Then si ence but for sea-birds' mournful calling 
And the slow tide. 
A th'n, cold rain was falling 
And the grey sea was one with the weeping sky 
And the stark trees veiled upon the nearer hills. 
Then from the little group a pent up sigh 
Escaped and, looking seaward, through the veil 
I saw the lean, grim Battle-Cruisers steer ; 
And in their shell-torn sides could read the tale 
Of the price paid for Victory. 
A faint cheer 
TremVed and died upon the heavy air. 
Silent and slow they passed. 
" One, two, three." 
I heard a woman count " Are there no more ? " 
" Mother, my eyes are blurred; I cannot se3. 
" Is there another — count if there be not four ? " 
The grey fog closed behind them like a door 
Shutting out Hope. A sudden, heart-wrung cry 
Rang shuddering, low, pregnant with all despair, 
" She is not there. Christ ! Mother, slie's not there." 
