derstand later on the motives which inspired it.

While the first part of this study will carry us far from our habitual
modes of thought, the second part will bring us back into a domain which
our own philosophies, sciences and arts have already made familiar.
Admittedly, Chinese painting is governed by distinctive ideas. Born of a
civilization vastly different from our own, it may at times appear in a
guise that seems incomprehensible. It would be astonishing, however, if
Western intelligence were unable to grasp an aesthetic code of a magnitude
which is too great to be ignored.

The progress of history and of criticism has given us the opportunity to
reach a comprehension of the most peculiar formulas. Our culture is
sufficiently broad to allow us to perceive the beauty of an Egyptian
fresco or an Assyrian bas-relief as well as of a Byzantine mosaic or a
painting of the Renaissance. We have therefore no excuse for remaining
inaccessible to the art of the Far East and we have surely all the mental
vigor that is requisite in order to accustom ourselves to the foreign
nature of its presentation. It is in the realm of painting that this
foreign element is most noticeable. This is due partly to a special
technique and partly to the nature of the doctrines which serve as its
inspiration.

It behooves us then to acquaint ourselves with these new aspects of the
human soul. That is the justification for this little book. It forms an
introduction in which gaps are shown without attempt at concealment and
is presented in all modesty.

* * * * *

PART ONE
TECHNIQUE

I. EQUIPMENT OF THE PAINTER

Where our painters have chosen wood or canvas as a ground, the Chinese
have employed silk or paper. While our art recognizes that drawing itself,
quite apart from painting, is a sufficient objective, drawing and painting
have always been closely intermingled in the Far East. While the mediums
used in Europe for painting in color, distemper, tempera and oil, led to
an exact study of form, the colors employed by the Orientals--at times
brilliant, at times subdued with an almost studied restraint--preserved a
singular fluidity and lent themselves to undefined evanescences which gave
them a surprising charm.

The early paintings were generally done on cotton, coarse silk or paper.
In the eighth century, under the T'ang dynasty, the use of finer silk
began. The dressing was removed with boiling wa