white, the clean linen handkerchief is white, the ermine fur that you wear round your neck is white. Drop your handkerchief upon the snow, lay your ermine on its unbroken surface, the one will look murky and grey and the other yellow.
Black is just black, you say. But is it? Objects are black because they come in contrast with other colours.
Search about for black things in the room. you will see that there are as many shades in black as there are in other tints, and also according to the colours with which it is surrounded.
Look at the black coat of a man in a subdued light, when for instance, he is sitting in a room; and look a the same black coat when the man is walking out in the streets under the blue sky.
The black coat under a subdued quiet light is deep and rich and warm, but in the open air the light strikes on the shoulders, the arms, and the skirts of the coat, and if a cold blue light is reflected from the sky, then the black coat will reflect that colour and tint. Obviously, being a dark material, it will absorb; but light and shade there must be, and the black will mingle with the general colouring of the street.
'A sense of colour' in the mind of an artist is simply the faculty of choosing tints.
One artist may revel in exquisite golds, reds, and blues; another may prefer silvery greys and blues, warm fawn, and dull reds. But it is not true to say that the latter has not as much sense of colour as the former. His choice of tints is different. He sees Nature in more subdued hues. That is all. His theme of colouring is quieter, more subtle.
If your taste inclines to more delicate shades, do not be discouraged because by that choice you are told you haven't much sense of colour. That you know in your heart of hearts is not true. The beauty of twilight, or the delicacy of a misty landscape, or the sombreness of the grey old woman in her dark frock have fully as much 'colour' as
