482 APPENDIX TO PART II

number of men passing their time in futile painting. It was as difficult, and required a natural capacity as extraordinary, to be a good painter, as it did to be a Duke of Wellington; but though it was necessary to possess a first-rate capacity and talents of the highest order to be a painter, it was not so to enable persons to outline truly from nature, and to lay on simple colour beautifully. This also was a peculiar gift not possessed by every one; but it was a gift which hundreds of persons possessed naturally. Amongst dressmakers there were many who instinctively, as it were, evinced an aptitude at arranging flowers and putting on colour, so as to throw in depth or light as required, for the purpose of producing harmonious combinations, and the instinct to arrange bouquets of flowers, so as to combine in harmony the various hues, was common. A child of twelve often knew how to do that well. But the mischief was that, when young people were found to possess talent of outlining or arranging colour in more than an ordinary degree, they were pressed to learn to draw, though they might not have brains enough to draw well.

10. He would urge upon those of his audience who had the gift of colour not to allow it to be checked or run away with by pursuing that which it was more than doubtful that they would ever succeed in. There might be first-rate art exhibited in the pursuit of colour only. The field was narrow, no doubt; but if a man made up his mind to be an illuminator-if he possessed the gift of arranging colour, and his opportunities and time did not admit of his making himself a good painter-then let him take up this principle, that every form he drew must be in pure colour, without shadow. He might use what colours he pleased; but let him not resort to shadow in any shape-the object should always be represented in gradated pure colour, with true outline. The first step was to be perfect master of outline. “The first thing to tell you is always to look for outline; the first thing I shall tell the young artists, whom I mean to lecture after you, is never to look for outline,-that there is no such thing as outline in nature. And then people will say I am inconsistent.” Outline was susceptible of great beauty and infinite variety; but it must be firm and true, not thickened on the side opposite to the light, with a view of showing something like a shadow. It must not be shadowed at all. Nothing could be more absurd than to attempt to throw in shadow by thickening the line; for if the outline was ever lost, it would oftener be on the dark side than on the light side. Besides, the veracity of the line would lie within the compass of a hair. It must be right or wrong. If right, the thickening of the line destroyed the correctness, and the thickness must be removed before the outline could be true, the truth lying somewhere within the thick line. The first thing to practise was perfectly faithful outline, and an important thing to know was how much could be expressed by it. Here

grew out of that of writing, and that when the two became separated they rapidly declined. Illuminations lost their flat, unshaded character, and degenerated into picture-books, and the letters became less perfectly formed. He thought the art of illumination might well be revived at the present day and employed in the ornamentation of those books for which we feel a sort of personal affection.”

“The most beautiful specimen” (says the Guardian) “exhibited on this occasion was some leaves of a psalter, executed for the use of St. Louis, and shown by Mr. Ruskin. There is a great deal of character in the figures, and nothing can exceed the delicacy of the outlines and colours.”]

[Version 0.04: March 2008]