FIELD AND HEDGEROW. 



in spectrum analysis, and the theory of the polarisation 

 of light was fairly familiar ; any number of books, but 

 not what I wanted to know. Next the idea occurred 

 to me of buying all the colours used in painting, and 

 tinting as many pieces of paper a separate hue, and so 

 comparing these with petals, and wings, and grass, and 

 trifolium. This did not answer at all ; my unskilful 

 hands made a very poor wash, and the yellow paper set 

 by a yellow petal did not agree, the scientific reason of 

 which I cannot enter into now. Secondly, the names 

 attached to many of these paints are unfamiliar to 

 general readers ; it is doubtful if bistre, Leitch's blue, 

 oxide of chromium, and so on, would convey an idea. 

 They might as well be Greek symbols : no use to attempt 

 to describe hues of heath or hill in that way. These, 

 too, are only distinct colours. What was to be done 

 with all the shades and tones ? Still there remained the 

 language of the studio ; without doubt a master of paint- 

 ing could be found who would quickly supply the tech- 

 nical term of anything I liked to show him ; but again 

 no use, because it would be technical. And a still more 

 insurmountable difficulty occurs : in so far as I have 

 looked at pictures, it seems as if the artists had met 

 with the same obstacle in paints as I have in words — 

 that is to say, a deficiency. Either painting is incom- 

 petent to express the extreme beauty of nature, or in 

 some way the canons of art forbid the attempt. There- 

 fore I had to turn back, throw down my books with a 

 bang, and get me to a bit of fallen timber in the open 

 air to meditate. 



Would it be possible to build up a fresh system of 

 colour language by means of natural objects ? Could 

 we say pine-wood green, larch green, spruce green, wasp 

 yellow, humble-bee amber ? And there are fungi that have 



