A Theory of words themselves in red, green, or blue, as easily as
Illumination he could have written them in black. He can take
a clean pen and a new colour and initial and “ flour¬
ish ” any part of the work to his heart’s content. He
may acquire the art of laying and burnishing gold,
and no possible brilliance of effect is denied him—
within the limits of his skill as an illuminator (see
also pp. 262-263).

A limited number of specially prepared printed
books can likewise be illuminated. But the greater
the number of copies, the less labour may be spent
on each one, and the more their illumination tends to
be simple “rubrication”—adding coloured capitals,
flourishes, and the like (see p. 93). And, if a large
edition is to be decorated, the printer must be con¬
tent to use black, or black and red, in woodcut or
“process” work (see pp. 329, 336).

Illumination proper may be defined as the decora¬
tion by hand, in bright gold or colours, of writing
or printing.

There are three broad types of illumination, which
for want of better terms I distinguish as “ Barbaric ”
(or colour-work), “Filigree” (or pen-work), and
“Natural” (or limner’s). These types run naturally
one into another, and they may be blended or com¬
bined in every possible way, but it is convenient to
consider them and the distinctive treatments which
they involve separately.

“barbaric, or colour-work, illumination”
{See also pp. 169, 174, 175, 181-4,376,407,408)

This is mainly a colour treatment in which forms
seem to be regarded chiefly as vehicles for colour.
160

Its effect appeals to the senses, rather than to the A Theory of
imagination; and such interest as the forms have lies Illuminatión
greatly in their skilful disposal or intricate arrange¬
ment. Sometimes in their fantasy—where organic
forms are introduced—as the “great fish” in the act
of swallowing Jonah (in order to make the T of
ET), Plate XII. This type of illumination appears
to have reached its climax of barbaric splendour in
the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.

Though its revival nowadays might seem a little
out of keeping with the more sedate and grown-up
point of view of modern life, we cannot doubt that
it is still lawful to decorate our work with the brilli¬
ance and splendour of gold and colours. Whether it
is expedient or not depends upon how it is done: to
justify our work, it must succeed; it must be bright
and splendid, and really gladden our eyes. And we
must really take pleasure in the making of it, for
if we do not, we can hardly expect that it will give
pleasure to others.

Simple and Complex Forms.—Between simple forms
—which are in a sense permanent—and complex
forms—which are always changing—it is necessary
to make a careful distinction.

An equilateral triangle drawn by “Euclid” and
one drawn by a modern Mathematician are, or
ought to be, practically the same thing. If the
ancients made an ornamental band of geometrical
forms, that is no bar to us ; we also are at liberty
to make decorative bands of circles, lozenges, or
triangles.

The ancient Romans made a capital A—its essen¬
tial form (see fig. 142) two strokes sloped together
and joined by a cross-bar (very like the “Pons
Jsinorum”), it could hardly be simpler—they used

161