§ 31

An important neglected industry is revived. I noticed many men with deeply stained arms and hands; they were the dyers. It did not much matter that coal-tar dyes slipped through English fingers and were developed in Germany, because the colours they made were vulgar and discordant, far more in harmony with Teutonic taste than English. Many years ago the author of these pages was in Algiers and heard of local dyers there, some Arabs, but mostly Moors they were. A black Soudanese servant of his told him of them. At once he took advantage of this and put into their hands fine muslin strips, which they converted into colour as exquisite as possible. Now rags, the remnants retain their freshness. A yellow like crocus, a pink rose, a lustrous black shot with copper, a green like fresh ivy leaves, an iris purple, and a blue like the sea at Malta. He tried to get the colour copied—there were no dyers with the skill to do it. Since those days (50 years ago), and quite recently, I hear that enterprising people from the New City have learnt many a secret from Eastern dyers. In this instance, instead of spoiling oriental taste for colour, alas! a habit of the commercial English, they are learning from them. India is helping England out of her bad taste. More beautiful tints I never saw than those in my dream. The sight of them made my spirit think how much we might learn from the East of value instead of pushing our tasteless goods where for centuries beauty has prevailed. The eye is pleased now in the New City, instead of displeased. Beautiful colour seems to grow naturally, the streets and gardens are full of it.

Every garment gives a lively note which is the key to interchanges of harmonies of colour only to be compared with exquisite music. The trade of the dyer has become an Art which creates pictures at every turn of the road and field.