A print is the name given to the imprint of the strokes incised into a piece of solid material. To explain more clearly what I mean by this, I will go back to Engraving, since engraving is the cause while a print is its result. In my explanation, I will use the general assistance provided by Mr. Mariette. This illustrious amateur is at work on a history of engraving and a history of famous artists who have been known to engrave. The book—whose significance can easily be anticipated in light of its author’s knowledge—will no doubt provide materials that will enrich a second entry on Engraving, which we see as a necessary addition to this one. [1]

In order to produce a print , a series of cuts are incised into solid matter; they are then filled with a color, liquid enough to be transmitted onto a flexible and humid substance such as paper, silk, or velum etc. This substance is applied onto these hollow strokes filled with distemper color. Using a machine, one presses the substance intended to receive the imprint onto the piece of solid matter intended to give it. After separating them, the paper, silk, or velum has become the repository of the strokes, which have just been thus imprinted, and is now called a print .

This operation—for which I have suppressed technical particulars in order to reserve them to their proper place: the entries on Impression, Engraving, etc.—broadly demonstrates the meaning of the word print . However, I will go into some details here because there are several kinds of prints , and because the art of producing them—remarkably enough—is a modern invention in comparison to Engraving, which has such an ancient origin that it cannot be precisely determined.

The antiquity of Engraving cannot be questioned since beyond the infinite number of citations and evidences of all kinds, the remaining works of the Egyptians—more specifically their obelisks adorned with engraved hieroglyphic figures—are irrefutable proofs that this art was in use among this most ancient of known people. It is furthermore highly probable that, in order to fix the origin of engraving in the history of the human race, one would need to go back to the age when the first men likely attempted to communicate with each other without recourse to the sound of their voice. The first kind of writing was without a doubt a choice of figures and strokes carved into a hard material which could resist air damage and thus transmit their meaning; and if this conjecture is plausible, what can be more ancient than the art of engraving? Yet, one of its effects (the simplest, and at the same time the most valuable), the art of infinitely multiplying strokes by taking their imprint, only finds a beginning around the middle of the 15 ^th century. Italians say that it is a goldsmith of Florence named Maso or Tommaso Finiguerra who made this discovery. Germans in contrast argue that the small town Bockholt, in the bishopry of Munster, was the cradle of the art of the print . According to them, the person at the origin of this discovery was a simple shepherd, named François. Whatever the actual birthplace of this art, what appears certain is that its discovery was only due to chance. However, if mankind’s industry is thus humbled by the modest origins of many of its most remarkable inventions, it can congratulate itself on the speedy perfection which it rapidly grants these new devices, even when those are acquired almost by chance.

A goldsmith or a shepherd realizes that a few carved strokes can be reproduced by contact with a surface; in less than three centuries, all human knowledge is expanded by means of the print . This brief time span has sufficed to provide every man engaged in the sciences or the arts with economical means with which to enjoy what is most precious in his field of study. Finally, it is enough to prepare—in advance and for all who will follow us—an inexhaustible mass of truths, inventions, forms, and devices, that will immortalize our Sciences and our Arts and which will grant us a true advantage over Antiquity.

Indeed, since it is beyond doubt that sight is the shortest of the many routes that ideas can travel to become conceptualized in our minds; and since the most lucid explanation always reaches our mind in a slower fashion than its illustration with figures, how much extended knowledge of the miracles of antiquity wouldn’t we have gained if they had been able to enclose geographic maps, plans of their monuments, detailed representations of their machines, portraits, and finally, images of their most remarkable events? Nevertheless, it is necessary—one readily feels as much—that any aid we might receive from prints in this purpose comes from the perfection of the works themselves. It means, therefore, that prints are also subject to the art of Painting, to which they belong.

As a result, the print can also be defined as a kind of painting , in which lines have been used, firstly, to fix the contours of objects, and, secondly, to represent the effects, on these objects, of shadows and brightness shed by lighting. Black and white are the most common means used in prints ; although white is negatively used since it is only the white of the paper itself, reserved as substitute for the effect of light on the bodies.

Light in nature hits surfaces with more or less strength, depending on their distance from the source whence it starts and spreads out.

As a result, it follows that the most lit surfaces are indicated on the print by pure white: those less illuminated are represented, mildly obscured, by a few light strokes; and those strokes, which are called cuts, become blacker, more pressed together, or doubled, as the object they represent needs to appear shroud in shadows and deprived of light. Through this explanation, one will appreciate that harmony which results from the distribution of light and the lack thereof (effect which is called chiaroscuro in Painting), as well as the correctness of forms are the principles of a print’s perfection, and the pleasure it brings forth. It is easy to believe that the two colors that mark the boundaries of prints, deprive them of the precious advantage and splendid aid given to painting by the diversity and brilliance of color; however, efforts have been made in the art of the print (carrying it to perfection) to overcome this obstacle even though it seemed insuperable. The dexterity and intelligence of skilled artists have produced close to miracles, which have led them to go beyond the boundaries of the art.

Indeed, the excellent engravers employed by Rubens, van Dyck, and Jordaens distinguished themselves in their efforts in this area. If absolute impossibility kept them from presenting the local color of each object, they were nevertheless able to ensure the identification of the nature of different bodies’ substances through various works approaching what they wanted to represent. Flesh in their work brings forth the idea of skin with its pores, and its fine downy hair. The nature of fabrics can be distinguished in their prints; it is possible to not only sort out silk from wool, but also— wherever silk is involved—it is possible to recognize velvet, satin, and taffeta. What if they represent a sky? Their works imitate its lightness; waters are transparent. Ultimately, one only needs to look at the beautiful prints of these engravers, and those of Cornelis Visscher, Antoine Masson, the Nanteuils, and Drevets, and so many others to admit that the art of the print has reached the highest level of perfection.

In order to get to the bottom of this art, we would need to analyze its means, describe its tools, divide it into its various types of productions. Such division would elaborate both on the mechanical execution, which depends on materials that are used, and on the genres of engraving; these are separate routes, which can be implemented reasonably and actively. However, it seems to me that such subjects more directly belong to the cause, rather than to its effect; thus we will speak of them in the entry Engraving, where we will be able to present a more accurate idea of these details; without forgetting the entry Impression, which will speak of the process of printing, and how it can produce differences for the prints and their degree of perfection.

On this occasion, I will add that a print , considered as a product of printing, is called a proof; thus it is said that a faulty printed print is a poor or inferior proof ; it is also said of a print whose plate has been worn out, or had become imperfect.

1. This translation was written thanks to a National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Stipend (Delamaire 2017 Summer Stipend).