when he began his work in New York there were not more than twenty professional wood-engravers in the United States, and that when the father of American engraving died there were over four hundred.
   Dr. Anderson was excessively modest, and always deprecated any direct mention or praise of himself. The following incident well illustrates this characteristic: His portrait was needed for a projected history of wood-engraving that was to be published in the "Art Union Bulletin," a publication similar to the "London Art Journal."  When approached on the subject by an intimate friend, he returned the answer that he had always given to his family: "That do others care for a picture of my old face?" He finally consented, however, after much urging, to sit for his likeness to Plumbe (on the corner of Broadway and Murray Street), who had met with considerable success in the new art of daguerreotyping. The  portrait was taken in duplicate, as the modern system by which photographs can be produced in unlimited quantities was then unknown. The history was never published; but a year or so afterward the daguerreotype was carefully copied on wood, and the doctor was requested to engrave it for publication in the "London Art

Journal."  He was horrified, and at first positively refused to do anything that would be so grossly egotistical. His objections were overcome, and the picture, which is cut in his best style, appeared in the "Journal" for September, 1858. He was then in his eighty-fourth year, and those who knew him say that he had retained extraordinary vigor both of body and mind.
   For nearly ten years longer he was regularly employed in engraving, and at the age of ninety-three cut a series of pictures for Barber’s "Historical Collections of New Jersey." This was the last work he did for a publisher.
   In 1868 he moved to Jersey City, and took up his residence with his son-in-law, Dr. Edwin Lewis, at 135 Wayne Street, where he died January 17th, 1870, a short time before his ninety-fifth birthday. The service was held in Trinity Church, New York, and the remains were interred in Greenwood Cemetery.
   Six months before his death he drew a picture upon a block and had partly engraved it, doing a little from time to time as his strength allowed, when the dread call came. During his latter years he engraved many pictures for his own amusement, taking that method of preserving any design that happened