he
color strong, if it be strong, though far off; faint, if it be faint,
though close to you. Why should you suppose that Nature always means you
to know exactly how far one thing is from another? She certainly intends
you always to enjoy her coloring, but she does not wish you always to
measure her space. You would be hard put to it, every time you painted
the sun setting, if you had to express his 95,000,000 miles of distance
in "aerial perspective."

185. There is, however, I think, one law about distance, which has some
claims to be considered a constant one: namely, that dullness and
heaviness of color are more or less indicative of nearness. All distant
color is _pure_ color: it may not be bright, but it is clear and lovely,
not opaque nor soiled; for the air and light coming between us and any
earthy or imperfect color, purify or harmonize it; hence a bad colorist
is peculiarly incapable of expressing distance. I do not of course mean
that you are to use bad colors in your foreground by way of making it
come forward; but only that a failure in color, there, will not put it
out of its place; while a failure in color in the distance will at once
do away with its remoteness; your dull-colored foreground will still be
a foreground, though ill-painted; but your ill-painted distance will not
be merely a dull distance,--it will be no distance at all.

186. I have only one thing more to advise you, namely, never to color
petulantly or hurriedly. You will not, indeed, be able, if you attend
properly to your coloring, to get anything like the quantity of form you
could in a chiaroscuro sketch; nevertheless, if you do not dash or rush
at your work, nor do it lazily, you may always get enough form to be
satisfactory. An extra quarter of an hour, distributed in quietness
over the course of the whole study, may just make the difference between
a quite intelligible drawing, and a slovenly and obscure one. If you
determine well beforehand what outline each piece of color is to have,
and, when it is on the paper, guide it without nervousness, as far as
you can, into the form required; and then, after it is dry, consider
thoroughly what touches are needed to complete it, before laying one of
them on; you will be surprised to find how masterly the work will soon
look, as compared with a hurried or ill-considered sketch. In no process
that I know of--least of all in sketching--can time be really gained by
precipitation. It is gaine