It is a scientific fact that music evokes a vision of colour; it is a fact that colour evokes a sensation of music. Thus colour has the rare merit of changing men’s atmosphere, of lifting people, so to speak, out of a dull depressing mood into a poetical one of its own. Colour, then, like music, is a physician. Its healing qualities are contained everywhere in nature, in the heavens from whence it springs, in the pictures and poems beneath the heavens. Such healing qualities might be contained in the works of human beings. But, unfortunately, few of us, great or small, are able to accept the atmosphere “given off” by colour. Few of us can feel colour. Many are colour-blind; others, again, are insusceptible to it. Few, indeed, are able to perceive it as it really is. Indeed, to quite three-fourths of the human race their hour on earth is an hour of darkness. Therefore quite three-fourths of the human race are unaffected by colour, except in a hostile form. Pure, clean colour arouses in their honest bosoms an exasperation only equalled by that called forth by the so-called indecent forms of art.