In talking with brother painters I often find myself giving prominence to some particular word like _rhythm_, _vibration_, or _colour_: but I must always forget the root-meaning, or I would discard it at once. I must employ my adopted word in a new way. Its special meaning, though never explained, is communicated by repeating the word freely in various relations, pronouncing it with emphasis in an unexpected moment, or, again, pausing before its utterance so that the appreciative ear may anticipate it and catch the spiritual sense intuitively and feel all I had attached to it from myself. It is nonsense to talk upon art without a personal note of this kind! 8. Colour Very few understand how much _colour_ means to the colourist, or why, in the higher sense, like _music_ it has no plural. Colours are the pigments, the materials: but _colour_ is the soul of things! I believe _colour_ belongs to the fairies; it never comes quite within our grasp. It is borne upon the air, its chariot is the morning dews, and its paths the sunbeams. I have come to regard _colour_ as a spiritual thing changing for ever, as all spiritual things do. Of a truth it is the beautiful emblem of _change_. The idea of eternal change is fascinating beyond measure. God never created a _fixture_ intentionally. We are immortal only inasmuch as we are eternally moving with the thought of God! 9. Extravagance I love the word extravagance in its application to _colour_; for is not the sense of _colour_ an innocent _extravagance_ of the mind, which saves the possessor from discontent and death? I know I shall not die while _colour_ floods in upon my eyes: it is the silent music of an eternal vision! 10. Relation The other day at coffee with a group of young painters I talked upon the importance of _relation_. I went so far as to say that no picture could have any sense of dignity without the quality I have named. Everything in the work should, in some special degree, contribute to the first idea. Nothing should be introduced for the sake of variety. No; it is better to let _sameness_ be the principle. I have seen sheep grazing in a meadow with all their heads turned one way, all quietly pursuing the same course, as though led by a sympathetic spirit, and I have felt that the peace of all the pastures was undisturbed by their presence. I once saw a group of rustics with all their faces so nearly alike as to represent a distinct type; all bent upon the same work, pursuing the task with natural ease and unconscious order, and I felt the nobility of their occupation, the blessedness of labour. And when I have seen such people kneel before the crucifix with their heads bowed towards the east and have noted from behind the simplicity in their manners, the _sameness_ in all their clothes, I have felt the fervour of their religion, the divinity of poverty that makes them all unconsciously _relative_!