ground, stage by stage, in white, leaving the chiaroscuro to be determined by the effect of the ground showing through. Shading was often further emphasized by black lines or hatchings. The resulting gray tone gives the style its name. Later, relief from the monotony of gray was found by the addition of one or two tints, such as flesh tint, as may be seen in the work of Jean Pénicaud, Pierre Raymond, and Léonard Limousin. Perhaps Pierre Raymond distinguishes himself as exhibiting the finest color sense, though he may not have possessed Léonard Limousin’s qualities of bold and direct handling. This latter artist, who worked from 1532 to 1574 and advertised himself in a little panel introduced into one of his works as “Enameller and Painter to the Chamber of the King,” was a consummate portraitist, and executed some splendid portraits in enamel. Any one who is acquainted with Italian faience will be struck by the relationships in effect between maiolica ware and Limoges enamels. After Jean Limousin, descendant of the great Léonard, and his school, enameling as a truly fine art began to die out at Limoges, in 1610. Colin, Martin, Poncet, Laudin, and the Noalhers carried on the work, but Jean Limousin stood shoulders above them all. Toutin introduced enamel-painting on gold in 1732 and the products became daintily and insipidly delicate, quite in the taste of Louis XIV and his successors, until at last enameling became little better than a rivaling imitation of china-painting. CHAPTER XXV THE ROMANCE OF A POTTER: BERNARD PALISSY Far better it is that one man or a small number of men should make their profit from some art by living honestly, than that a large number of men should struggle, one against the other, so that they cannot gain a livelihood save by profaning the arts, leaving things half done. So said Master Bernard Palissy, born some four hundred years ago--in 1510, to be exact--near Château Biron in Périgord, France. Where in the whole history of the arts will a more interesting figure be found? His was not the swashbuckling career of a Cellini; nevertheless the serious-minded would not exchange him for the volatile Italian who seemed ever and anon to be swallowing diamond dust or crossing a cardinal for copy. Palissy’s was romance of a different sort, but romance of a fine type.