ENTRÉE DE HENRI II. À PARIS-LE FAUCHEUR. 75

If we pass from the Tableau de Cebes' to the ‘Entrée de Henri II. à Paris,' printed by Jacques Roffet dit le Faucheur in 1549, we measure at a glance the width of the stride which was made during these six years. It is impossible to deny to Jean Cousin a real co-operation in, if not the main conduct of this advance. He himself tells us in express terms that he designed the illustrations of his 'Livre de Perspective,' and if we compare these cuts with those in the triumphal entry of Henri II., it seems evident that the drawings in both instances have been executed by one and the same hand.

The Entrée de Henri II. à Paris' is justly accounted the capital work of French wood engraving in the sixteenth century. It stands pre-eminent, unrivalled even by the beautiful volume which relates the events of the same king's triumphal entry into Rouen, a ceremony which took place in the following year. An edition of the Entrée à Paris' was brought out by Dallier simultaneously with that of Roffet, but it is inferior to it in beauty and elegance, although both editions seem to have been illustrated by the same cuts. The engraving of these cuts is unusually fine, and contrasts in this respect with the work in other volumes dedicated to the memory of other triumphal entries which took place at about the same date, but this extreme fineness of execution aided in the rapid deterioration of the impressions, and probably Roffet,

having secured for his own edition the first and best, made over to Dallier the already fatigued and worn blocks. It is at least certain that the cuts which illustrate the volumes published by Dallier are all inferior in sharpness of outline to those which figure in the perfect copy of Roffet's edition, which was one of the gems of the collection of the late M. Didot.

The illustrations of this book are remarkable for the great sense of beauty which rules the laying of every line of the design, for a grand simplicity of general outline, and for the exuberant fancy which spends itself in complex ornament, the variety of which is subordinated to the sway of certain dominant lines. The classical Renaissance constrains in its fast embrace the wild passion of the Gothic imagination, and of this union there issues a product which combines for us two sides of art. Let us take, for example, the architectural decorations, the 'Arc Triumphal d'ordre Corinthien' on the way coming to St. Jacques de l'Hôpital, or the processional groups of figures which succeed each other on the page, marching solemnly four abreast; or turn to the noble drawing which sets forth all the majesty of slow command in the captain of the company of twenty-six young men. In each we find the same distinction, the same dignity of abstract line, coupled with the same brilliant elegance of detail, put in with the delicate touch and the rare spirit of a French artist.