Illustration emerges from complex and diverse motives. The portrayal of an objective reality may seem to lie at its heart, but there are other subtle factors at work. Preconception guides many an illustrator's hand. A wish to project known realities onto nascent concepts distorts reality in its own ways, and the process of transmuting the subtle realism of nature into an engraver's line imposes constraints and conventions of its own. There is a general principle in artwork, often unrecognised: the culture of each era dictates its own arbitrary realities. Our experience of this is largely intuitive, but it explains why a specific image (a saint from a thirteenth-century psalter, or the countenance of the Statue of Liberty) is easier to relate to the time it was produced, than to the identity of the artist or the name of the subject. In just this way, a scientific illustration is a mirror of contemporaneous preoccupations, and a clue to current prejudice. It is more than a didactic symbol. Some illustrations create, and then perpetuate, icons which transcend reality and provide a synthesized convention which passes from one generation of books to the next. These icons are created for textbooks, and they populate their pages as decorative features which do little to reveal reality. FOONOTE Discussions on the relationship between reality and interpretation are found in: Ford, Brian J., Images of Science, a History of Scientific Illustration, London: British Library; New York: Oxford University Press (1992); also in the author's Images Imperfect, the Legacy of Scientific Illustration, Yearbook of Science and the Future: 134-157, Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica (1996). Early in the century, François Legaut's Voyages et Aventures (1708) featured a rhinoceros with a second horn projecting forward from its brow. This structure is never found in life. Why should it feature in an eighteenth-century illustrated textbook? The first published study of a rhinoceros (made by Albrecht Dürer in 1515), though powerful and realistic, boasts a small secondary horn on the shoulders, which projects forward. The image was repeatedly plagiarised and -with each generation of copying -this imaginary forward-projecting second horn increased in size. By the time it was included in Legaut's book the imaginary horn was equal in size to the real one.