use them
little, and make of them much. There is no better test of your color
tones being good, than your having made the white in your picture
precious, and the black conspicuous.

177. I say, first, the white precious. I do not mean merely glittering
or brilliant: it is easy to scratch white seagulls out of black clouds,
and dot clumsy foliage with chalky dew; but when white is well managed,
it ought to be strangely delicious,--tender as well as bright,--like
inlaid mother of pearl, or white roses washed in milk. The eye ought to
seek it for rest, brilliant though it may be; and to feel it as a space
of strange, heavenly paleness in the midst of the flushing of the
colors. This effect you can only reach by general depth of middle tint,
by absolutely refusing to allow any white to exist except where you need
it, and by keeping the white itself subdued by gray, except at a few
points of chief luster.

178. Secondly, you must make the black conspicuous. However small a
point of black may be, it ought to catch the eye, otherwise your work is
too heavy in the shadow. All the ordinary shadows should be of some
_color_,--never black, nor approaching black, they should be evidently
and always of a luminous nature, and the black should look strange among
them; never occurring except in a black object, or in small points
indicative of intense shade in the very center of masses of shadow.
Shadows of absolutely negative gray, however, may be beautifully used
with white, or with gold; but still though the black thus, in subdued
strength, becomes spacious, it should always be conspicuous; the
spectator should notice this gray neutrality with some wonder, and
enjoy, all the more intensely on account of it, the gold color and the
white which it relieves. Of all the great colorists Velasquez is the
greatest master of the black chords. His black is more precious than
most other people's crimson.

179. It is not, however, only white and black which you must make
valuable; you must give rare worth to every color you use; but the white
and black ought to separate themselves quaintly from the rest, while the
other colors should be continually passing one into the other, being all
evidently companions in the same gay world; while the white, black, and
neutral gray should stand monkishly aloof in the midst of them. You may
melt your crimson into purple, your purple into blue, and your blue into
green, but you must not melt any of them int