surfaced metal plate (usually brass) is coated with a composition, which is capable of being worked upon in a similar manner to the etching ground used in ordinary copper etching.

There are several forms of tool employed, according to the kind of line to be produced.

The drawing is made upon this plate in the same way that it is required to print, and the effect may be very well judged as the drawing proceeds, for the ground, which is of a neutral tint, being removed, reveals the lines in black, the surface of the metal plate being blackened before being coated with the composition. Erasures and alterations are made by re-coating the portion with composition, and proceeding anew. The material of which the composition consists is capable of being so manipuluted as to allow of the impression into the coating of letters or stamps, so that some very effective productions in the way of maps can be obtained.

The drawing completed, the plate undergoes a process of develop ment, with a view to raise those portions which are intended to be white, and then it is electrotyped. This electro becomes the original block.

The second illustration, a portrait, also by Messrs. Dawson, is produced by the photo relief process from an ink drawing in line, and by the same agency any existing design which is in sufficiently decided black outline may be reproduced for working with type. But of course the best results are obtained from specially made drawings in very black line upon white-surfaced paper, or specially printed impressions of existing engravings. The process is shortly this a negative of the copy is taken, from this a wax mould is produced by chemical means, and this mould electrotyped. The illustration, "The Tortures of Tantalus." from the "Salon," is by the photo-zinc process, and is interesting on account of the fact that by it some of the happiest results of reproductive art have been secured. Typoetching, as its name implies, its name implies, is an etching pure and simple; photo-relief aims at the same object as photo-zinc, and is peculiarly adapted for reproducing certain kinds of work; but the photo-zinc process is at once the readiest and the cheapest. The specimen I have selected to illustrate this process is a very beautiful one; it shows it at its best. The method of production is simple. An artist sends in his drawing-in pen and ink, or sepia, or charcoal, or in any colour that will photograph. The sketch is marked the size to be reproduced; it is photographed on to a sensitive plate of zinc, which is then placed in a bath of acid, which is kept oscillating by machinery, the acid flows over and over the plate, those parts unprotected by the photography are eaten away, and the raised block is produced, mounted so as to be type high, in the same way as an ordinary electrotype. The process takes about six hours, and the work is done by the aid of electric light. The drawing, "A Peaceful Evening," from a pen-and-ink sketch by R. Swain Gifford, is called a phototype. It has been produced by following a similar method to that employed in the photo-zinc process. From its peculiar sharpness it would appear that a steel, instead of a zinc plate, has been used.

And now that we have come to the end of a somewhat lengthy article, we part with our subject with regret. Its interest deepened as we went on, and that which threatened to be a toil has become a labour of love. The work of illustrating magazines may to some appear to be at best but work of an inferior kind, but when we remember that it is the end of art to give refined pleasure, we have only to follow the history of an illustrated magazine to see how much can be accomplished through its pages. Illustrative Art is the common language of the race, and magazines may largely help to make Art, in the truest sense of the word, the common property of mankind. Such periodicals find their way through many channels into places which Art could not otherwise reach. We value them, not alone because they give pleasure to the refined and the cultured, but because they carry, as Art in any form must carry, refinement and pleasure into the households of the toilers and the poor. Eminent artists who may work for this object are entitled to our warmest thanks, and we wish God-speed to those who are trying to place our illustrated magazines upon a higher level than that to which they have hitherto attained.

T. C.

RECOLLECTIONS OF NEW ZEALAND.

III.

ONE of the charms of an up-country surveyor's life is the constant change of scene and quarters. It may be quite true, as I have often experienced, that one may have a spell of bad luck in the shape of very rough quarters, and weather to match, but when past, and the sunny days come, with corresponding comforts in the surroundings, the enjoyment thereof is all the keener, and the appreciation the greater.

For obvious reasons I have changed, and shall, during the writing of these recollections, continue to change the names of persons, and sometimes of localities; but in the instance I now come to, illustrative of "comfortable quarters," I give the real ones-as, although seventeen years have passed since the events occurred, I am glad to bear testimony to the kindness of our host, who, I believe is still living at the same place. One of the sons of this gentleman (a wee lad at the time I was there), is now residing in Birmingham.

Leaving McKie's run,with many good wishes (for its reformation), we made for the last station on our list for this journey; and after a

pleasant ride of fifteen miles, were met by the owner, Mr. Brunton, riding towards us on horseback. After our first greeting, assuming we were the party he was expecting, as advised by our letters, he proceeded to express his fears, which, he said, had distressed him ever since he knew we were coming, that he did not know wherever he should lodge us; his house being small and his family large. He said he had only recently taken the run, and had to accommodate himself to the buildings he found upon it, which had been sufficient for his predecessor, who had a small family; but which rendered the advent of visitors a matter of perplexity. Two reasons made Mr. Brunton's case different from that of almost any other run holder; one, that his station being southernmost in the province, there was no traffic through it to runs beyond; and the other, that the new owner was an "old Indian," who had ideas of housing his guests somewhat at variance with those of the ordinary "Colonials." Not that the latter are inhospitable, far from it; but that they take it for granted that any caller would rest and be thankful if he had to sleep in a hut or a woolshed, and make "no bones" about the fare put before him. Not so Mr. Brunton, his nature, as we found to our comfort, prompted him to treat visitors as a man would the friends he delighted to honour. "What can I do? Where shall I put you? Can you put up with sofas ?" such were some of our host's queries, which we soon answered by pointing to our tents, and assuring him, that, given a pretty dry spot, and mutton and damper to eat, we were ready for any emergency.

It so happened that it was imperative that I should start within an hour for a station some forty miles away, to obtain some official letters and instructions, which a post had informed us were awaiting our staff, and it was necessary to tell Mr. Brunton of this at once, so that I might refresh the inner man, and be in the saddle again in time to make the first stage before dark. In a moment I was an object of solicitude to this truly sympathetic man. "And my dear friend," said he, "here have I been hindering you with my queries and surmises. Futtoo, qui ! hi! Where is the man? Futtoo !" And like a phantom, an imposing figure clad in pure white, with a monstrous turban on his head, stood, at the salute, before his master. Giving this sable dependent some rapid instructions in Hindostanee, Mr. Brunton turned to me, and intimated that if I would follow Futtoo, I should have such refreshments as could be put before one at such a short notice. After a luxurious wash in a charming little bedroom, odorous with the scent of flowers from the garden it overlooked, I was shown into a kind of breakfast room, consisting of a passage between two rooms, space, as I have intimated, being scarce, and every square foot being economised. Tongue and ham, with chutney, flanked by home-brewed and home-baked, was a make-shift not to be dispised by a hungry man, who knew his work was cut out for the next six hours. After the style of fare and feeding at McKie's, I felt positively bashful, and almost ready to apologise to the silent, but attentive, Futtoo, who was standing erect behind my chair, awaiting my slightest sign. "I am afraid you are making but a poor

repast, Mr.——, but we will treat you better when you return." Thus Mr. Brunton, and be it observed, that such remarks were no mere politeness on his part, no empty phrases, for from the moment we met him until the hour of our departure, a fortnight after, this noble specimen of an "Anglo-Indian New Zealand settler devoted himself, from morning until night, to assist us and cater for us. Bismillah may his shadow never grow less! This was, indeed, being in clover, and the danger seemed to be that we should neglect our work in the sheer enjoyment of the present. But loyalty to such a host forbade that we should impose upon his good nature.

Space will not permit me to describe here my long ride to the posting station and back the next day. But on my return I found our tents pitched in a charming spot at the foot of the garden, and just in the bush, near a brawling creek, from the bed of which we could pick up as many fossil ferns as we wished. Futtoo had dug a splendid trench round the tent in which my brother and I slept, and Mr. Brunton had sent down rugs and wraps (he even offered us chairs and tables, but there was no room for them inside), and everything had been done to make it as little uncomfortable as possible when we left the house at night, to "turn in.”

Two instances shall suffice as descriptions of the indoor life at this station. The day is over, theodolite locked up in its box, and carefully bestowed lest it should get out of adjustment (a serious matter up country), chains folded and tied up, each with its ten arrows, and heavy riding boots exchanged for cosy slippers, when our cheery host invites us to join his family circle, and spend an hour or two in music, or a round game.

In the corner of the parlour (the only large room in the house) is a fine Broadwood trichord grand; there is no mistake about it, it is the genuine, unmistakable article! "But why so much surprise?" asks the gentle reader. Let the same reflect, and ask how it got there; it could not fly, nor, like the ancient genii, could it enclose itself in a magician's bottle, and be conveyed thither to assume its natural dimensions when let out again. Certain it was that the smallest cottage piano could never have been brought from Dunedin or Invercargill by road, unless, indeed, to be used as firewood and wire fencing on its arrival. The story of this piano was as follows:-When Mr. Brunton decided to leave India, and settle in New Zealand, he had to reconcile himself to many minor privations; but he had wisely elected that his growing boys would be better fitted for the trials of life by being schooled in the energising atmosphere of latitude sixty, than in the enervating one of unit something, near the equator. One thing, he was resolved, should be in his power as a luxury, and that was the means of obtaining the common delight of himself, wife, and children-music. So that when staying for a short time in Melbourne, to purchase goods which he could not bring from India, he cast about to meet with an instrument worthy of his purpose; and he told us how he had gone into a music store, and asked to see what the proprietor had on sale. After examining several cottage