THE PROFANITY OF PAINT THE PROFANITY OF PAINT. BY WILLIAM KIDDIER LONDON: A. C. FIFIELD, 13, CLIFFORD’S INN, E.C., 1916 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND TO LOVERS OF COLOUR Contents PAGE 1. My Book is True 11 2. My Friends the Trees 13 3. The Profanity of Paint 17 4. The Miserable Pursuit of Knowledge 21 5. The Gift of Silence 23 6. The Magic of Words 27 7. The Personal Note 29 8. Colour 31 9. Extravagance 33 10. Relation 35 11. Tragedy 39 12. The Tonic of Genius 41 13. Critics 43 14. The Closed Ear 45 15. The Painter’s Cigarette 47 16. The People’s Café 51 17. The Middle-class 53 18. The Masterpiece 57 19. Mission 61 1. My Book is True My view-point is the painter’s, the poet’s; ah, I am a romanticist! But my book is true. The romanticist finds truth without seeking it; it is before him, around him, and he gathers it all with the joy of the child that plucks the flowers in the fields. _Truth_ is not knowledge: it belongs to temperament; it is vision! The child and the romanticist love the beautiful, that is all: _truth_ is there! 2. My Friends the Trees I have loved trees all my life; they were the friends of my baby years. Though the land of the trees seemed far away from the close-built houses, I wandered thither with great joy and never knew that my little feet were tired. The tall aspens were the most wonderful things in the world: they are still. I shed tears on being told that the Cross was made from one of them. I have wept since at the sight of their trembling leaves. They trembled for the tragedy of Golgotha. I know they will tremble to the end of the world. Melancholy trees! O but they are beautiful--beautiful and gentle like a nun with a prayer quivering upon her lips, with her white fingers and her rosary sparkling from under her robe: and, lo, the aspens are all alike, as she and her holy sisters must needs be for the sake of their holiness.