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.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] Light is either direct or diffused—direct, when the sun's rays fall upon any object; diffused, when ordinary daylight illumines objects with white light, causing them to appear of their peculiar colours.
[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
[308]. TUNGSTEN WHITE,
or Tungstate of Baryta. "At the request of a landscape painter," says M. Sacc in a letter to M. Dumas, "I was induced to examine in succession all our insoluble white compounds, with regard to their adaptability to painting purposes. Tungstate of baryta answers perfectly, covers as well as white lead, and is as unalterable as zinc white. It has been employed by this artist for three months, and was found equally successful in oil or water colours, chromolithography, and even in making white impressions on a black ground. This harmless substitute for the injurious white lead is prepared on a large scale in Paris by M. E. Rousseau." We have not met with a sample of that gentleman's manufacture, but judging from our own specimens, made both by wet and dry processes, and carefully tried in water and oil, it would seem that a perfect white pigment has yet to be discovered. With us, at least, tungstate of baryta is far from having the body of white lead, and indeed is inferior in opacity to good zinc white. Unaffected by foul air, the tungstate appears to possess the common fault of all whites when compared with white lead—want of body, moreover it is a bad dryer. However, M. Rousseau's preparation may not be open to these objections, and we therefore reserve our final opinion of tungsten white. It is intended to publish from time to time a fresh edition of Field's Chromatography, and we hope in the next issue to give a more detailed and favourable account of the new pigment.