The Book; Lest His Aim Be Defeated Of Reflecting In A Moderate-sized

: ON THE NEUTRAL, BLACK.

mirror the palette as it is and might be at the present day. Arrived at

age, as it were, in its twenty-first chapter, this treatise may fitly

conclude with Black, the last of the series of colours. Let us hope the

maxim of Sir Joshua Reynolds, that success in some degree was never

denied to earnest work may apply here.



Still, by way of finale, we would offer a few remarks. In no branch of

the science, per aps, is it more hazardous to commit oneself to a

positive dictum than in the chemistry of colours, so liable are theory

and practice to clash, and so often does the experience of one person or

one time differ from that of another. He who has turned his attention to

pigments, finds nearly every assertion must be qualified, for to nearly

every rule there is some exception, and learns that theory alone may

mislead. For example, a colour known to be fugacious may last, in

certain cases, a surprisingly long time; while, on the contrary, a

pigment permanent when used alone, may be rendered fugitive by improper

compounding. Again, what holds good of a colour produced by one process,

or employed in one vehicle or by one artist, may not be true of the same

colour made by a different mode, or used in another vehicle or by

another artist. It is because, then, colours are of every degree of

durability, from the perfectly stable to the utterly fugitive, and

because each one is liable to influence by every condition of time,

place, and circumstance, that the chemist's theory is opposed as often

to the painter's practice as the experience of artists themselves

varies. This may explain the charges of inconsistency and contradiction

which have been brought against writers on pigments, faults that lie

rather with the nature of the subject than with the authors.



Even at the risk of being tiresome, we have throughout insisted on the

choice of permanent pigments, not simply for use alone but for mixed

tints. To quote Cennini, "I give you this advice, that you endeavour

always to use ... good colours.... And if you say that a poor person

cannot afford the expense, I answer, that if you work well (and give

sufficient time to your works), and paint with good colours, you will

acquire so much fame that from a poor person you will become a rich one;

and your name will stand so high for using good colours, that if some

masters receive a ducat for painting one figure, you will certainly be

offered two, and your wishes will be fulfilled, according to the old

proverb, 'good work, good pay.'" Of a truth, if man cannot dip his brush

in the rainbow and paint with the aerial colours of the skies, he can at

least select the best pigments that earth and the sea afford him;

preferring, where he cannot get brilliancy and permanence combined,

sobriety and permanence to brilliancy and fugacity. It must be the wish

of every real artist to leave behind him a lasting record of his skill,

a permanent panorama of those hues of nature which in life he loved so

well. To effect this, genius alone is powerless: there must be first a

proper choice of materials, and next a proper use of them. The painter's

pigments are the bricks wherewith the mortar of his mind must be mixed,

either to erect an edifice that shall endure for ages, or one which will

quickly topple over like a house of cards. Now in nothing more than in

painting is prevention better than cure--indeed cure may be said to be

here out of the question: for good or for evil a picture once painted is

painted for ever. Without a strong constitution there is no hope for it;

no chemistry can strengthen the sickly frame, restore the faded colour,

stop the ravages of consumption: Science stands helpless before dying

Art.



And yet, she sighs to think, it might have been otherwise. If durable

pigments had been employed, if her counsel had been sought, this need

not have been. In the history of modern art the use and abuse of colours

would furnish a sad chapter, telling of gross ignorance, and a grosser

indifference. Happily there is promise of a healthier state of things.

When this comes, Art will be less shy to consult her sister: in the

interests of both there should be closer union. Without waiting till the

picture is finished--for then it will be too late--let her, if in doubt,

frankly display the contents of her palette and ask advice. Now, not

knowing what pigments are chosen or how they are used, never standing

by and watching the progress of the work, how can Science lend her aid?

She would willingly, for she herself needs help: at present her

knowledge is limited, not so much of the chemistry of colours as of the

properties of pigments. She seeks to mix her pound of theory with an

ounce of practice, and craves a warmer welcome to the studio. For any

approximation to the truth to be arrived at, facts must be noted with

the conditions under which they occur, not by one sister alone nor by

the other alone, but by both. In future, Art and Science should go hand

in hand, mutually dependent on each other, mutually trustful of each

other, working with and for each other, earnestly and patiently.





TTITLE ADDENDUM.



With the present rapid progress of applied chemistry, an addendum in a

work of this kind is quite excusable. Even while the book is being

printed some fact may be announced which the author or editor would wish

to insert. In our case this has happened. Very recently there has been

introduced in France as a pigment



TTITLE TUNGSTEN WHITE,