KELMSCOTT HOUSE 
But for us at home Morris has done nothing less than totally 
alter the aspect of our domestic environment. He has put a new 
face on those externals that all unconsciously help to mould 
character, and to direct the trend of man’s evolution, externals that, 
in the mid-Victorian era—until the advent of Morris—were inex- 
pressibly heavy, ugly, and depressing. 
Some ridicule was brought upon the movement soon known as 
“‘ estheticism,” by the extravagances of some of its votaries ; people 
laughed with Gilbert and Sullivan, at the absurdities of the “ very 
intense young man—” 
‘‘ The greenery-yallery Grosvenor Gallery 
Foot-in-the-Grave young man,” 
at the apotheosis of the lily and the peacock-feather ; and at those 
feminine devotees of the new art cult, who, arraying themselves 
in loose draperies of sage-green, dirty yellow, or cloudy-blue, fondly 
imagined that they looked as though they had just stepped out 
of a picture by Rossetti or Burne-Jones. 
Never were people more mistaken, Burne-Jones’s finest works 
glow with sumptuous colour, so too do Rossetti’s ; while to Morris 
a muddy-green was of all tints most abhorrent. He did not alto- 
gether object to sage-green, but the rusty red and peacock blues 
only prevailed in his fabrics whilst he was without a dye-house of 
his own, and was tentatively feeling his way to the production of 
the indigoes, madder-reds, and yellows obtained from a scentless 
species of mignonette called Weld. His unerring eye for colour 
enabled him ultimately to harmonize all these even in juxtaposition. 
Curiously enough, as Mr. Mackail mentions, these dingy colour- 
ings were associated with his name long after he gave them up. 
A customer of rank calling one day at Oxford Street turned over 
the beautiful Hammersmith carpets (then produced in bright, 
clear colour) dubiously. They were not what he had intended 
to purchase. ‘‘ Are these all?” he asked. Being answered in the 
affirmative, he said, “‘ But I thought your colours were subdued ? ” 
This was more than Morris, whose hot temper had been rapidly 
rising, could stand. He exploded on the spot. 
“If you want dirt,” he exclaimed, “ you can find it in the street.” 
The offended great man departed, and never troubled Morris and 
Co. again. 
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